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Chapter Text

Chapter Text

The moment he opens his eyes, he is sure he is not where he is supposed to be. It is both irritating and endearing how he has come to be so used to seeing the bland white ceiling of his own Tokyo apartment that now he can tell it apart from any other bland white ceiling.

Shit.

He rarely utters profanities even in his mind but this time he has every right to transgress. This should not have happened. He should have been able to take two more glasses without losing his consciousness or even muddling it. As he opens his eyes fully, taking in the sunlight and listening to his environment, his brain has already started making calculations, estimating what might have happened, and assessing the current situation.

In his drunken state he had made the mistake of taking his usual rule of thumb as an accurate measure for his context and state of intoxication. It had not been a wise decision: first of all, he had slept a couple of hours less the night before due to anxiety that had filled his head courtesy of the prospect of visiting Kagami's place (again, he shall never regard that place as Kuroko's, this little childish wilfulness he shall allow himself to indulge at least in his mind from now on), secondly he had eaten less than his usual daily diet not because Kagami's cooking was not delicious but because he had felt a loss of appetite precisely because Kagami had cooked it, regardless of its taste, and thirdly he had just had intercourse before starting his second round of drinking and this particular romp had been quite a heavy and hard one, to put it mildly, very taxing on his stamina. Thus, his initial judgement that did not take into account any of these factors had failed miserably. He had become too drunk and here he was lying fully nude in a stranger's bed, hazy about any details of the night before.

It was not that Akashi never made mistakes, everybody made mistakes as humans were fallible by their very nature and the redhead was smart enough to know this. Or more precisely, mature enough now to accept this fact; for there had been a time in his youth he had been too immature and delusional of his own grandiosity to accept his intrinsically fallible human nature. All in all, what set Akashi apart from others was that he could always fix his mistakes to avoid defeat or any real harm. And that is what he is going to do.

Not that anything that might have taken place in the time between his loss of consciousness and waking up in a stranger's bed could simply be deleted; but then, he had been out cold and thus they were not mistakes of his but crimes of another: it was literally an assault on an unconscious person and while he has been disappointed in his judgement the night before, he would never blame himself for the despicable actions of an aggressor, whom he shall crush for their violation, by the way.

The vague sound of flowing water indicated that someone was taking a shower, it was the perfect opportunity to leave but he did not upon realising that his clothes were nowhere to be found. He could have stolen some clothes that lied around, they were a few size bigger but anything would do, and he has already found his phone and wallet, which is a little surprising if he has to be honest; a person malignant enough to put moves on him when he was unconscious (or worse, Akashi could not ascertain the details precisely then), he would have expected such a person to not pass the chance of thievery. Perhaps he is dealing with a particular kind of predator here; he especially hated those, still, nothing he could not handle.

I have had much worse.

The sound of water stops and Akashi sits up on the bed at the same time, he is fully naked but does not feel uncomfortable; the person must have undressed him at some point in the night as he woke up naked; so there is nothing to hide, is there? Nor does he owe any shame to an unknown aggressor. He has already sent out a notice to his favourite cab company to send a cab to his location via phone (and thank God, for GPS and smart phones and their handy applications). His hands itch at the possibility of a physical altercation; he is a second dan black belt in judo, not to mention his mastery of various other martial arts, or the peculiarly fierce persona he has been keeping caged for many months now. He is ready to handle any and all kinds of evil this mysterious person could be; he has met and not even flinched shaking hands with the most vicious people in Tokyo and whole of Japan. He is surely not depraved but he can be ruthless than the worst of yakuza. His assailant should not be much of an obstacle. However, the person in question turns out to be something completely else than what he imagined and for the first time in a year or so Akashi actually feels truly perplexed.

“Oh, you are awake, Akashi?”

“Ni-Nijimura-san?”

Nijimura Shūzō was anything but an evil person.

A cacophony of various possibilities erupts in his mind at the speed of light, the things that might have happened last night or the things that might not have happened, and could Nijimura be a rapist? If anything Akashi always knew predators were never monsters but often ordinary men, still it feels absolutely wrong to think of Nijimura as such. What he knows of the young man's character dictates that is not a possibility in this case. He sighs and orders the thousands of ongoing stubborn predictions and computations in his mind to stop. Just stop. He has to breath and not think anything for a moment. His determination on how he could handle the situation has wavered for a moment there, he could deal with anything but... Nijimura?

Really?

“Are you okay? Do you have a headache?”

“Slightly.”

“Duh, nothing unexpected there. You drank too much.”

The man makes a beeline to the small open kitchen. It is a studio apartment, quite a small and cozy place if a little too dull and messy. Nijimura both looks very different and not so different than the redhead had last seen him: he is taller, probably around 190 centimetres, his build is much sturdier, his muscles more toned and well defined, the softness of his face has disappeared though his features are not angular at all, his shoulders and back are much wider, his voice is lower and hoarser... He was a boy then, he has become a man now.

Still, the way his eyes look, the way he stands, the way he walks, the way his hands are larger and more calloused than Akashi's, the way his pitch black hair is slightly long but not too long and the way they drip little droplets of water now, the way his skin has flushed from warm water right after a shower, the way he exercises his neck muscles and stretches as he seems focused on preparing some kind of concoction Akashi has no idea what... The way Akashi cannot read him so perfectly... They are all the same.

“It seems to be the case.”

Normally this would be the point where Nijimura would start complaining about how Akashi should not drink and he is not even of drinking age, is he? And how he could have expected to see Aomine perhaps wasted alone at corner of a bar, but never Akashi. Nijimura does not start to it though and Akashi is both a little pleased and a little discomforted at the fact, for the lack interrogation is appreciated but such failure of his predications is unsettling.

“Well you should be careful... Something bad could have happened.”

Which precisely means something bad had not happened as Akashi had guessed. The first part still makes him a little bothered. Because it is a caring remark and it is sincere but nowhere near chiding as the usual Nijimura... Given his soft tone, it is akin to a considerate wish than scolding or blaming of any sort.

'The usual Nijimura'? What is the usual Nijimura supposed to be anyway? Akashi has known him only for two years, actually make that one and a half, or even one and a quarter. And that was when they were still children, who knows how Nijimura is usually now. It is easier to observe and note outwardly changes and similarities but it is not so easy to do the same for the internal affairs. He will have to talk with Nijimura to grasp those and right now he would prefer not to talk. His headache is actually quite numbing, thank God for his extremely well pain tolerance, he is able to not show it on his face.

“You are correct in that. As much as it pains and shames me, it was a true blunder to lose my consciousness. Could you inform me where my clothes are?”

Nijimura flinches very slightly, nobody but Akashi would realise it, or perhaps Kuroko would too and Akashi curses himself internally for bringing up Kuroko again to the spotlight in his mind; why and how does the aquamarine haired boy find his way into Akashi's thoughts so easily... It is infuriating. Absolutely unnecessary.

“They are still not dry... I washed them.”

Ah, how dutiful.

Perhaps there are things he has known about Nijimura that are still valid; he seems to be so regardful and caring as ever.

“You did not have to, but thank you.”

“They were dirty. I will lend you clothes.”

Dirty, Akashi muses to himself. Nijimura did not even change his intonation as he said the word, honestly no insinuation was present but Akashi knows the double entendre the word carries and he knows that even if Nijimura has not chosen the word specifically for that reason, the brunette knows how both meanings hold true in this case as well. Whether it is said intentionally or not, it is simply too unsubtle to not realise. He would have expected an argument about being more careful in his private life, perhaps even an interrogation of his sexuality, Nijimura can be brash when he is protective and he is often so senselessly protective. At least he used to be. But neither is there, nothing of the sort is pronounced, and again Akashi is both pleased and discomforted and thinks perhaps some things have changed inside Nijimura as others stayed the same.

That's how you grow up after all: you always stay the same in certain points and you greatly change in others, so humans are in a perpetual and simultaneous stagnation and change... Ah paradoxes, Akashi adores these.

As Nijimura makes his way back to the bed with a glass in his hand filled up to the brim with a seemingly unholy liquid, the redhead pulls the bedsheets a little onto his lap to cover himself out of reflex. He is vexed for this little gesture, he had been perfectly fine fully naked till about five minutes ago, why does his subconscious require such timidity right now? Though somewhere in this he realises that it is not simply out of timidity, but of a new requirement of civility: for any stranger, especially a possible assailant, he would not mind being seen naked, raw, and lacking in etiquette, for Nijimura though it does not hold true. Even though the brunette himself is wearing only a pair of shorts and a black singlet. Not the best attire to greet a guest with, but then, does Akashi have any room to complain in that regard? Not much in his current condition.

“I will kindly take you up on that offer. Is this... for me?”

He gives a puzzled look at the drink Nijimura is offering,

“Yeah, it is for hangovers. You don't show it but you must be terribly hungover.”

And he is. Yes, he does not reveal it but his temples have been figuratively vibrating with pain as though they were drums, his stomach is terrified and fragile, and he is not sure if he can drink the concoction but Nijimura's eyes are sharp and commanding, they are almost saying: “Drink it. Now.”

So he takes the glass and Nijimura wanders to the other side of the room, opening a closet, likely in search of some clothing that would fit Akashi enough to not make him look like a child wandering in his father's clothes. It is not an easy task given the difference in their builds.

“Do you want to have a shower?”

“I actually already asked for a cab. It should arrive in fifteen minutes.”

“Oh... You sure?”

If he has to admit, Akashi wants to get rid of the putrid smell and layers of hardened fluid covering all over his naked skin as soon as he can... However, the idea of spending more time with Nijimura is somehow both vexing and alluring, so he is not sure. He has always liked being in control, lacking knowledge in current Nijimura means a lack of control, he would like to change that before he leaves this apartment. But at the same time a survival instinct is adamant (both for himself and for Nijimura), he is not sure if the brunette will open subjects he would rather not discuss and if this would lead to unsavoury arguments he would rather not have...

“Yes.”

He says, though his inner conflict is a little hinted in his voice. He blames this little blunder in his raging headache and the gag reflex he is trying hard to suppress as he slowly drinks the bitter mixture.

“Well, as you wish... But I would say it would be much better to take a shower at least. And if you want you can stay for breakfast, your clothes should dry by then. I am sure you would prefer that than to go out, even in a cab, like this?”

Nijimura's voice is again devoid of any insinuation but its absence does not change the fact that they both know. Akashi takes the french terry sweater and sweatpants, both in a soft shade of blue, from Nijimura's offering hands and gives him the empty glass in return.

“If you insist, then I would agree that it is indeed a better idea. Sorry to be an inconvenience.”

Nijimura makes a move to the kitchen area again and places the glass in the sink.

“The bathroom is to the left... Well, it is the only door there is anyway. There are some dry towels in the small cabinet in the bathroom, you can use those.”

Akashi nods and also notes how Nijimura has turned his back to him, he has started preparing rice for the breakfast but it is also a small gesture to let Akashi feel more comfortable walking naked to the bathroom. Younger male smiles at the subtle, tender care he is receiving; he has not experienced this in a long time and it amuses him more than anything. He cancels the order for a cab with the application on his phone before leaving for the shower.

The bathroom is terribly small but at least it has a working shower and the hot water helps a lot. In mornings like this, well not precisely like this factoring in Nijimura but in mornings after long hours of humiliating himself in various strangers' arms, Akashi prefers to take extremely hot showers. The burning sensation of the heated water on his skin invigorates him. He has always liked the idea of a purgatory; nobody is sinless after all, and to him water is not enough to cleanse, fire is needed. Not like he can burn himself to death so he prefers the one thing close enough but not fatal. Although he would never admit to himself that this is a cleansing ritual, because the very idea of sin or purity all sound ridiculous to him. Yet he cannot help it; perhaps he is just washing away the legacy of the defeat at the hands of his other self...

When he is finally out the shower, his alabaster skin has turned an almost alarming shade of pink and his breathing a little laboured. Nijimura gives him a surprised glance,

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I like to take hot showers.”

“You should not have, it is not good for your health...”

“Perhaps so. But I already feel better. The strange mixture you made me drink must have helped.”

“Oh, that helped for sure. It is great against hang overs. Come on, sit down.”

The small and low rise table is barely able to accommodate two people which proves that Nijimura does not invite people into his home regularly. He probably lives alone and prefers his own company at home. If he wishes to meet people, it is outside. Akashi's mind has been taking notes about all the little details of both Nijimura and his dwelling since the moment he has decided to not take the cab and instead stay for a bit. This is pretty much reconnaissance for him.

“It is interesting you know such a thing... such a recipe, I mean.”

At this point Nijimura could say, “well it is interesting you can get drunk like that, end up passing out in a bar, underneath your clothes fully soiled with another man's semen and your body full of bruises of rough sex.”

Instead Nijimura chuckles,

“My professor at the lab is a pain in the ass, he is such a drunkard... I learnt how to make it from him and basically for him: I get to prepare once or twice every week.”

“Oh, and perhaps is that why you were in the bar last night?”

Given the state of Nijimura's house and possible corresponding financial status, there are only two rational reasons why he could be at the bar last night: he has either come to get or see somebody who earns more than him and probably older, or he works at the bar. The last statement has increased the probability of the former compared to the latter. Nijimura smiles, a little surprised and a little not surprised, an amusing face he makes, he is probably surprised to hear that but he is also not surprised because it is Akashi. He should have expected as much.

“Yeah. He frequents that bar a lot, his family is old money so... I had come to get his drunken ass home but well...”

“Instead you had to drag my drunken ass out?”

Nijimura chuckles as he chugs down his cup of tea, Akashi is eating as gracefully and slowly as always in contrast,

“Something like that. I was quite surprised to see you there. Apparently you had already told the barkeep that he should call a cab for you in case you are unconscious by the time they are closing. So it was a true hurdle to get him to agree to take you with me. Apparently you even gave him 10000 yen to ensure he would and he kind of treated me like a kidnapper at one point.”

Realising that he had not lost his conscious to the levels that he had completely left himself without a plan assures Akashi. He commends himself and then mocks himself for thinking such a measly plan would work.

“How did you persuade him then? Did you pay him?”

“Unlike you not everyone carries 10000 yen banknotes with them. I showed my university ID and my professor also helped... I guess the barkeep thought we were not suspicious.”

“That is a fallacy on his side, it is not like people involved in academics cannot be predators. In fact the opposite is true for various crimes.”

Nijimura is amused and also agrees, he nods his head as he gobbles a few pieces of tamagoyaki, Akashi is already full as he had not had much of an appetite to begin with, he is silently drinking his tea, taking in every little detail about Nijimura and this small space the brunette calls home in peace.

“Are you also a student at the University of Tokyo, Nijimura-san?”

Nijimura nods,

“Chemistry.”

“Chemistry? Interesting. I never thought you were interested.”

“I never thought I was interested in either... I started in Pharmaceutical Sciences then switched to Chemistry this year.”

That explains it, Akashi thinks. His father must have finally died or cured of his malady. The former is more likely. He could say he is sorry now and offer condolences but it would not be appropriate, so he opts to wait till Nijimura explicitly informs him of the passing away.

“They are rather similar fields.”

“Normally yeah but the kind of stuff I am interested for research right now don't have anything to do with medication, really... Though I do dabble in biochemistry. You are also in Tōdai, I presume?”

“Yes. I am studying Law.”

“Really? Wow, that I would never guess.”

“Why not?”

“You never seemed the type. I thought you would study Business or Political Science maybe.”

“I was to choose one out of the those actually, I preferred Law as I felt current Business and Political Science programmes would be unbearably boring and inadequate for me. Department of Law is at least remotely interesting.”

To anyone else the statement would have sounded very arrogant and they would perhaps be irritated, Nijimura is only amused though, even relieved it seems,

“Ah that's so you though... I get it now.”

It is a little interesting that Nijimura even claims to 'get' Akashi. Perhaps it is the fact that they have not seen each other for so long. Perhaps it is because that Nijimura has never seen his other self bare naked like his other friends have. Because nobody ever claims to 'get' Akashi. In fact all his friends were equally surprised at his choice of studying law but even after he had explained his rationale, none had claimed to 'get' it. Even Midorima who probably had a better idea about it than most others and thus probably understood why, never dared to make the claim that Nijimura easily did despite not having seen the redhead in years. Perhaps they were afraid that if they started to truly comprehend Akashi, the darkness in his core would seep away to their psyche as well... Perhaps Akashi was just overcomplicating things, over-thinking his friends' motivations.

“Are you not going to eat any more?”

“No, thank you, the food was delightful but my stomach is too weak to eat much right now.”

“No problem, the more for me the better.”

Nijimura indeed cooks fine, the breakfast has been simple but tasted decent. Akashi wishes he could try it some other time; it is pathetic, really, but he never has people specifically cook for him (that is people who are not paid to specifically cook for him). So he is always a little excited and more contented than normal when someone cooks for him out of cordiality, despite his attempts to control this naïve side of his personality; likely a legacy of his childhood devoid of any parental tenderness or care.

“You are not in the basketball club, are you?”

“No, I am not. Are you the captain again Nijimura-san?”

“Nah, I am not playing either. But I have friends in the club so I know a little what's up with them...”

“I see...”

Akashi could ask why but he gets that it is oddly a private matter for Nijimura; the slight reluctance as he carefully negates his status in the club gives it away... He wants to but he does not and thus there must be a reason. There are moments when Akashi separates himself completely from his own life and regards everything around him with a subjectivity that is separate from his own; in those moments he has always found how silly it is that his life and lives of those around him were centred around basketball. In his case it is not as evident as it is with others, because in his case there is a ton of other affairs that require his attention, still every emotion, every change, every mood... They always first manifested themselves through basketball. Perhaps it was because he had chosen basketball as a refuge that it eventually turned to be the main battleground of his struggle... against himself.

Similarly, for Nijimura it seems basketball is more than just basketball. Akashi prefers not to pry directly; he will learn why if he deems it is important to know, and even then he will learn by other means that will not make Nijimura openly uncomfortable. He thinks that civility requires this, most others would think it is extremely creepy.

“You would make it to the team you know... You could be the captain too, right away.”

Nijimura's voice is a little curious and Akashi wishes everyone was as civil as he himself was, but then the brunette has always been a little brash in the most unexpected times;

“I am afraid I do not have enough time.”

It is both the truth and a lie and since both are well aware of this, Nijimura does not push any further than that. There is a limit to his brazenness. The conversation is brought to a stalemate like this and in his awkwardness, because there is nothing else left to devour either, the brunette seems to be doing his best to think of something else to ask... He continues,

“How is everyone else by the way?”

“They are fine. Shintarō is studying Medicine in our school, Tōdai. Tetsuya is studying Pedagogy at Tokyo Metropolitan, Atsushi is studying Business Administration at Hokkaido University but he is planning to also start to a course in Pâtissier Department of Sapporo College of Confectionery and Culinary, Ryōta is studying Commerce at Nihon University in Setagaya, Daiki is at Nippon Sport Science University in Setagaya, and Satsuki is studying Law at Meiji University.”

Nijimura's eyes slightly get larger in interest, probably not at the respective choices of schools but Akashi's tone as he refers to each with their first names and Akashi wonders why has he not used Nijimura's first name to refer to him since the beginning. Perhaps, it was the shock of seeing the man he least thought of seeing that he had uttered “Nijimura-san” instead of “Shūzō” and then stuck with it because it felt comfortable. He is not sure but decides changing now would unnerve his former senpai unnecessarily and lead to a series of tedious questions and he could do without it today. Just for today, he will continue saying “Nijimura-san” and it will be like a reenactment of his days past. It will be fun.

“What about Haizaki?”

“He does not keep in touch with us and the last time he came across Kise and Aomine... It turned rather violent. He is a ronin by choice this year, apparently, he did not apply to any place.”

“Ah that kid is so intent on wasting himself...”

“And you are so intent on caring for others Nijimura-san.”

Nijimura blinks at the comment, a bit bewildered whether to take it as belligerent mocking and thus be angry at it or take it as some genuine compliment and thus be pleased if a little bashful about it. Akashi has always liked seeing a tinge of confusion in the silver orbs.

It must have been uncomfortable and too awkward to comment on, that Nijimura feels the need to change the subject,

“What about others? Are they playing basketball still?”

“Yes, except myself and Midorima.”

“Hmm... I see. It may be interesting to watch All Japan Intercollegiate this year... Did you all go to the same high school?”

So he had never looked for them. Not that Akashi would complain, not everyone is as protective and attentive as he is, and none of them has probably ever looked around for Nijimura either.

“No. We all went to different ones actually.”

“So you must already be attuned to competing with each other, huh? It must be an interesting sight. I knew I should have paid more attention to Interhigh last year but I was so busy...”

He probably has been, considering his sudden change of majors and its timing, it is likely that his father had died last year.

“It was interesting for those used to seeing our gameplay in the last year of Teikou... and our first Interhigh maybe. I am not sure if it would be that interesting for you Nijimura-san.”

It would not be, other than their increased strength and potential of which the brunette must have already been well aware in their Teikou days, any other changes that occurred after the first Interhigh were mostly about their personalities and how their gameplay has reverted back to the early days of their time at Teikou... Perhaps a little different as each had come even more involved and invested at the sport and also developed new ways to improve, new styles to fit their teams, but then Akashi is sure that Nijimura had caught on to that potential as well.

Nijimura looks at him puzzled for a few seconds then something dawns on him, it has not been long enough for Akashi to be able to predict exactly what but he has a few very probable ideas on the content or at least the context,

“Well, I am sure you all grew up, so for me it would still be interesting, regardless... I mean you grew up a lot. How tall are you now?”

The last part is asked with a cheeky tone and Akashi is a little surprised, the captain he knew was rarely cheeky; yes, they all grow up and things change, evidently.

“I am 176 centimetres.”

“Almost there.”

“I have not grown much in the last year, so I doubt I will grow any taller. Not that I mind.”

“How tall is Murasakibara now?”

“Atsushi is 210.”

“Ah that giant.”

“Others too, actually, I think they are all taller than you except Tetsuya.”

“Really? Well I shouldn't be surprised I guess.”

“You should not be.”

There is a peaceful smile that Nijimura dons upon Akashi's indifferent comment, again Akashi is not able to precisely predict the reason. This unfathomable quality to Nijimura was surely not perfect nor was it permanent, still it entertained the redhead; it had been a long time since he felt like this... Uncertainty often gives him disdain, but he can cherish it if it comes without risks or nasty implications. It does with the brunette.

Although they soon start talking about various things and Akashi even respectfully helps his host clearing the table, they never touch upon the distasteful details of last night. When it is time to go, Akashi's clothes are still not fully dry and in all honesty, Akashi would not mind if Nijimura trashed them, for frankly, they might be expensive but they are very much redundant. It would be pretentious to say so and normally he would not care but somehow at that moment he cares with Nijimura, who must be already fully aware of that fact anyway but still insists that he will get the clothes delivered to the redhead one way or another at a later time. So Akashi concedes. He will also ensure that the clothes he borrowed from Nijimura are returned, within a day he thinks in his mind.

Akashi puts an order for another cab and in twenty minutes he is outside Nijimura's door, ready to pace down the stairs to the cab parked in front of the shabby building. Nijimura insisted on exchanging phone numbers and this made his phone feel even heavier in his hand; he is not sure how he feels about this man's re-entrance to his life so nonchalantly and in such an odd occurrence too. Right before he takes his first step in the stairs, Nijimura calls for him, not too loud, not too quiet, it is a soft but determined voice,

“Akashi.”

“Yes, Nijimura-san?”

Akashi looks back with a little bit of curiosity, apparently this man wants to say one last thing to him and several probabilities and possibilities spring in his brain, subconsciously he is already calculating the respective likelihood of each prediction but before his calculations can properly finalise, Nijimura says,

“Take care.”

His eyes are not soft, his voice is not tender; his gaze is sharp, he is not chiding or scolding either, it is almost as if it is a wish but from a person so intent and intense that it comes out as a though it is a command. Akashi feels a chill in his spine; nobody dares speak him in a tone like this.

He hates it.

He loves it.

He does not say anything in response and only one end of his lips curve slightly upwards, it is not a smile but a gesture of both pleasure and irritation; his eyes glint and he realises Nijimura had never seen his eyes like this before yet he did not comment even once about the obvious heterochromia. The realisation makes him blame his intellect for not notifying him of this detail before, but also pleases him. His asymmetrically coloured orbs gleam and he can see how it changes Nijimura's gaze, a cloud of deep thought covers the clear grey of his eyes.

Akashi turns his back then and as he descends the stairs he can feel a gaze of curiosity mingled with various unknown wishes bore into his back, it feels cold.

It feels delightfully, ardently cold.

Chapter Text

Akashi has been taken with calligraphy since last year and now there are times when he spends whole nights drawing. Unfortunately none of the pieces he has made so far are deemed exquisite enough to be placed on the walls of his own apartment, however at Reo's insistence he sends one to them. Reo is ecstatic about it and has sent various pictures from different angles showing the wall they placed the scroll on.

He plays shogi every month with Midorima and honestly enjoys these little games though he is as expected the victor in every single one of them and they talk very little, like always. He knows it is healing for Midorima as well and that is one of the reasons why he is adamant about having them; for thanks to these games, Midorima has a chance and place to reveal his mind and worries if he ever feels the need and also can take a breather from his packed schedule. He understands being dutiful more than anybody else so he knows how Midorima is pushing himself hard to juggle various responsibilities at hand; others may think it comes easy to Midorima for he is capable and smart, but Akashi knows it is not easy at all.

There are times Kise begs him to come play basketball with them and he indulges himself on these occasions; they are not scarce nor are they frequent. He has also gone to watch a few games Kuroko played and once one of Kise's. It seems Aomine's school is dominating the league so far, no surprise there, as it is a school specialised in sports; their whole team is much better and formidable and with the addition of Aomine, they are simply unbeatable. Aomine himself seems to enjoy his games against Kise and Kuroko-Kagami duo the most.

He receives packages sent by overnight express cargo at times, baked good and confections, from Sapporo. They have little notes on them, Murasakibara asking how he is doing. He could send text messages via phone instead but he prefers this strange way of communication and Akashi is fine with it, the food is delicious and he has always been fond of good food.

His days pass in serenity but his insides are nowhere near serene. He has taken a greater liking to watching people and spends most of his lunch breaks sitting on the benches outside or in the school's various cafeteria, simply observing people around him. There are times he secretly wonders if life would be much better if he was as simple as them; if the cost of being born a star is bearing chaos for so long, is it truly worth it? Would it be better to be a piece rock placidly floating in vacuum, than a heavenly fiery mixture of gas such rocks would float around of?

He had thought that ensuring a certain level of stability in his environment would stabilise his inner turmoil but it does not seem to be the case. His mind wanders off to Kuroko more and more these days; it is as if as he tries to stay away from the aquamarine eyed centre of his affection, instead of declining, his yearning is kindled.

How to explain this?

It is hard. It is not romantic love, he is certain of that for he is certain that he is naturally incapable of romantic love. It is a kind of obsession, it is a longing for a kind of relationship he thought he could never have with anybody and had once thought he could have with Kuroko and then realised he would never be able to, for he has too many demons in his head and Kuroko was also different than he has thought. But now that they are reacquainted, the pining has come back and is even stronger than before, though he is well aware that his demons have not fled, they are still very much present if subtler and much less violent.

A few of the girls at his courses are brave enough to approach him in the hopes of a romantic future, he realises that these people are in love with either the image he is projecting or with the possible future benefits a relationship with Akashi the Heir would bring. There is this wicked thought that always blossoms in his mind whenever he is approached by such people of such motivations:

Why not use them?

Why not show them?

Show them what you are.

And they would run in tears and cries and they would be horrified and they would call him a freak...

Perhaps he would be happier than, if they kept their distances and regarded him as a different species, for honestly there are times he feels like a different species than the people around him.

He sees Nijimura a few times around the campus after that fateful day. The brunette has sent him a message a day after the incident and asked for his address to bring the clothes to. Instead Akashi asked him to bring them to the campus and give him there. It was a calculated action to put a distance between himself and Nijimura because even though he has felt this immense desire to bring the man into his fold out of his own controlling nature, there is a part of him that says “no” outright. It is also the same part that still insists on calling the man “Nijimura-san”. Perhaps it is the part of him that is sanguine and hopeful and naïve enough to think that things could go back to the days when everything was simpler, when his demons had not destroyed him both inside and outside. 

Reo would disagree. They would say, “You are being too tough on yourself Sei-chan.”

He has thought about the prospect of making friends in the university, however he is sure he would not come across people like Reo (or Kotarou, or even Eikichi). Everyone in this place seems to be exceptional either in studying or in intellect, or they are both; regardless, Akashi finds everyone he has met so far unbearably shallow. From the faculty to the student body, they are either lost in their own grandiose or are so caught up in their present or potential futures that they are not aware at all of the world around them. He finds them dull, or rather in general he finds the institution of education itself dull and tedious; obviously, he will study and he will attend all his classes and he will ace in every single course he takes but only out of duty and only out of the fact that he has been asked to. He does not enjoy any of it at all.

He is still amicable and civil to everyone, though he ensures to keep a safe distance from them and also ensures that they understand his excellence; this will guarantee that even if he does not form any actual personal bonds with these people, he will still have them as 'acquaintances' or 'colleagues' in the future. He can still make use of them in his career. It is insipid and tiresome but a Sovereign has to do what Sovereignty requires and that unfortunately will always involve such politically motivated slight socialisation.

Vaguely, he knows, he realises, he could form a truly amicable bond with Nijimura, perhaps akin to what he eventually had in high school with Reo; indeed he has seen little of what Nijimura has become as an adult, but he has not found him dull at all. Something in him avoids the topic altogether though. The brunette does not make a move to reinvigorate their relationship either, nor does he ever mention about the incident and the state he had found Akashi in that fateful night. Perhaps the old dutiful captain has become less caring, though the redhead still remembers clearly the tender care he was given that particular morning; the kind he rarely ever receives from anyone, the kind he rarely ever puts himself in a position to be the recipient of. 

When the last classes and quizzes before the Summer Break arrive and pass like a breeze for him and more like a storm for most of the student body, including Midorima who is struggling to keep good grades for the first time in his life, various invitations clutter his email inbox. He would rather decline them all but he cannot; again, some due to his own personal fondness (Kise has decided to host an end of term party at Kagami's place and Akashi commends him for successfully persuading Kagami and Kuroko to allow that), some due to his aforementioned political and social obligations (his classmates from the Department of Law are going to hold an end of term get together with the Philosophy and History students from the Department of Letters at a restaurant – apparently it is a departmental tradition).

He buys three bottles of de-alcoholised sparkling wine as a gift and after the initial cheeky greeting of “Oh My God Akashicchi, you bought us wine!” Kise is much disappointed that they are not alcoholic.

“Just one more year Kise, bear it one more year.” Kagami shouts laughing, Akashi is sure Kagami has never truly drank, though the boy has always been brash and feral in looks and manners, he is as innocent as an angel and it truthfully irritates Akashi at times, perhaps because he is the exact opposite. The redhead may have the pure face of a cherub, but he feel like sin incarnate. Then again, perhaps it fits; being an angel, Lucifer must have looked immaculate. Regarding alcohol, he is sure Aomine and Kise have already tried it, he distinctly remembers them gossiping about a particular beer brand at a get together during their second year in high school. Beer, he has thought, with all its blandness and the crude taste that holds no delicacy, fits them perfectly for now; though he is sure that once they mature Kise will especially be disillusioned with it and move on to vodka as well as colourful cocktails; Aomine will continue to enjoy beer at home but prefer scotch and simple cocktails, like martini, outside.

The night is simple, Kise manages to get (fake) drunk on non-alcoholic wine, Aomine is too giddy for no reason and Momoi is gleeful, Midorima falls asleep halfway through the night and Takao, who has spent most of his time stealing suspicious and angry glances of Akashi, takes his tall friend home early due to this... Then there is Kuroko and Kagami.

They have been thoroughly domesticated and do not hide their affection for each other as before. Or perhaps they want to but cannot manage to. Their touches are less subtle and more obvious, less accidental and more intentional. There are moments Kuroko will hold on to Kagami and larger boy will don a light blush on his cheeks, Kise smirks at these instances and sometimes nudges Aomine who instead glares at him. Aomine has never cared about these kind of affairs and prefers to ignore the whole matter, partly because it is shattering Momoi's heart, he believes. Unbeknownst to even him, Momoi has recently truly moved on, not like before when she had said she had moved on to everyone but had not moved on a single inch. Akashi is aware because he talks to her now and then, she often reaches out to him to ask questions or advice since they share the same discipline of study. He sometimes sends her articles he has found interesting. There is a boy she sometimes mentions passingly but her voice wavers a little every time she does, there is a beautiful timidity and she is just warming up to the idea of somebody new... Akashi has to admit that he finds the whole matter endearing albeit alien, he has never felt anything like it and he will never feel anything like it.

His mind wanders to Kuroko like always. Kuroko has liked the sparkling wine despite its lack of alcohol and Akashi makes a mental note to buy it whenever he can for his quiet friend. There is no alcohol in it but that somehow does not stop Kuroko's cheeks from donning a delightful pink. Akashi finds this look very endearing. Ideas surface on his mind, tinged with the colour of the depths of his desires.

He could have had him.

It is not a matter of possession; he could posses anything and anyone he desired. It is something deeper: it is the knowledge that he thought he could have something with Kuroko that he could not have with anybody else because nobody else would ever understand him... It turns out, Kuroko cannot either; it is painful to admit but Akashi would never be able to give Kuroko what Kagami gives to him, because it is not a material thing nor is it just affection and care. It is a very specific kind of love that Akashi just does not feel capable of, has never been capable of, and frankly does not care or want to be capable of. Yet Kuroko, it seems, lives off this thing. Now, Akashi could fake it. He could definitely fake it. It would be extremely realistic too and despite his observational genius even Kuroko would certainly fall for it because Akashi has ultimately been the devastatingly more brilliant one.

The problem is that it is too cruel for Kuroko. And it would be too cruel for Akashi too...

And then there is obviously the whole issue with his troubles... Kuroko is resilient, stubborn, and strong-willed but he can be extremely coward at times; if anything his perseverance in the recent years is something Kagami has helped him build. The old Kuroko ran away the moment he was left behind and hurt by his dear ones.

Akashi still remembers those days, all the silly details full of angst. He remembers the betrayal he felt and the betrayal he was sure Kuroko felt. Everyone seems to read their story from Kuroko's point of view and thus surely the victim would be Kuroko, but Akashi thinks he was not alone in that; they were either all villains or they were all victims. He himself had felt just as betrayed, just as depressed, just as pressed... if not more.

He takes a large gulp of his drink and orders the distasteful thoughts to disappear. It is not the time to lose oneself in the past. He tries to enjoy his night as much as he can before he leaves, not the last one to leave as it seems Kise will either stay the night or leave really late. On the way home he receives a selfie with a message from Reo; they are making a victory sign and grinning, winking. Their inky hair has gotten longer and is fastened at the back with a purple hair tie. The message sent right after the picture says:

“Classes concluded, all assignments submitted, and all quizzes successfully passed. We are going out tomorrow as the trio, wish you were here Sei-chan!”

There is a comfort he has always felt at Rakuzan, specially with Reo for they have never been judgemental to him. He has always cherished that. So he cannot help but be more motivated to take the first bullet train ride to Kyoto tomorrow and spend the night with them instead of his own classmates. He knows he will not feel the same serene atmosphere in Tokyo. Still, he cannot indulge himself so impulsively. That was one of the first things he was taught as a child; his feelings and whims and desires come second if they are not contributing to his well-being as a leader and successful heir, especially so if they contradict with his duties.

“I am sorry that I will not be available. Have fun in your Summer Break, good luck for the finals in September.”

He pauses a moment after his response is sent and decides to send another one. Such pauses and addenda rarely happen to him but whenever they happen it is with Reo, because they deserve it, he thinks somewhere deep in his mind:

“You look nice with your hair long.”

“Aw! Sei-chan don't use your playboy charm on me, you know I will fall fast and hard.”

He chuckles at the response; it is Reo's nature to be so flirty and caring all the time but Reo is the last person he would ever be engaged with and the decision is mutual, he would like to think. They are akin at certain aspects but one aspect they are completely opposite is love: Reo is not simply easygoing about it, Reo is tremendously romantic to the degree that his easygoing nature is more of a defence mechanism. Akashi is the very opposite. Interestingly, it is this antithetical nature of their stances towards love that allows them to understand each other very well. It is precisely why he has come to regard this person as a friend and wishes he had done so earlier.

Some part inside him disagrees but then that part of him would prefer to cut off all human contact, if he could.

When he arrives for the party of his classmates at the designated restaurant, which is neither classy nor shabby, a place that could be described simply as decent, he finds himself in an expected predicament. Men invited him because they know he has a decidedly stellar future and career ahead of him and would like to be on his good side for potential favours in the future. Women are similarly motivated but with an extra interest in his private life. Whereas he is obviously interested in neither. So he politely keeps his distance without coming off too cold, engages in small talk now and then and sips from the black tea he has ordered as he waits for his meal to arrive. Soon after, a particular young man from Occidental History programme is checking him out; subtle enough to not allow others to realise but intense enough for Akashi to notice. He would have noticed it anyway, not that this stranger would know. His name is Kageyama Shun, according to the earlier introductions, and Akashi has to admit that he is very good looking. He ponders the possibility of pursuing a night with the man but some of the possible endings are too bothersome and he would rather not complicate his life these days.

It is then – when he is in such thoughts he hears a familiar voice and turns to realise a group of people have arrived to their table and amongst them is Nijimura. He is as surprised as Akashi is; apparently a few of the students in departments of Chemistry and Physics heard about the get together and wanted to invite themselves, thanks to a mutual friend in the department of Law. It is not necessarily a surprise in the sense that department of Letters has the highest female student population amongst all departments, Law also has a sizeable female population compared to Sciences and Engineering. Such 'hijacking' is not uncommon. Still, it was extremely unlikely for them to meet like this and Akashi is once more irritated with how the life can sometimes throw such irrational and improbable curveballs at him. Nijimura says “hi” to him immediately and moves towards, despite all the women and men wanting to be in close proximity of Akashi, he somehow manages to get one of the guys sitting across the redhead to change places. People are already a little surprised and intrigued that the two know each other.

“You two know each other?” Kageyama asks, his tone is carefree and does not seem to hold any special intention, Akashi knows better.

“Yeah, he was...” Nijimura pauses for a second and his lips don that cheeky little smile Akashi is not very used to seeing him with,

“... my cute little kouhai in middle school.”

And this erupts a volcano of interest. Women giggle and 'kya' and ask for photographs which Nijimura admits to having none (Akashi thinks this is a lie, despite all his disinterested appearance, the brunette has always been sentimental at the core, he surely has at least a copy of the one of the many photographs taken during their first championship together). Men ask questions about how Akashi looked and behaved then. Despite their interest flooding Nijimura with questions, there is a sense of envy in the air that is too apparent to be unnoticed. Kageyama is quickly disillusioned though and takes the chance of everyone being so focused on Nijimura to make small talk with Akashi.

Akashi does not mind. He has always been fond of beautiful things and beings; hence, he does not mind looking at the handsome features of this man, who is also smart, granted nowhere near the redhead's own brilliance. It is at least not intolerably boring, even if he does not feel anything at the subtle hints of flirt the young man throws at him (and rather pities him for those).

One thing Akashi also realises is how Nijimura keeps an eye on him even when he is busy communicating with others; after his initial comments the brunette has mostly said nothing meaningful, but finds polite ways to not answer the questions thrown at him. Such skilfully deflecting tautology, he would not expect from his former captain, he has to confess, nevertheless he finds it charming and mature. His night could be worse, so Akashi is still contented with this. Though he would prefer if he could have something alcoholic to drink; he has not drank in weeks and tonight feels like the perfect night to drink.

About two hours pass chatting and eating. Nijimura has mentioned how he moved to the States (due to his father's treatment there – Akashi attentively notes in his mind), this makes him more popular with both men and women in attendance. For a few reasons, one of which is the allure of anything 'foreign' or 'different' (which has always disturbed Akashi especially, was also partially the reason why he wore contacts for such a long time), another is his fluency in English and knowledge of American lifestyle both of which have come to dominate the world for such a long time now that people inadvertently attribute some kind of superiority to both, which is bullshit, of course, and Akashi could explain the political and social underlying frameworks of both such hegemony and the tendency to be mesmerised by such hegemony in the first place... But he prefers not to mingle with their conversation at all and watches as some young men curiously ask questions about American women to Nijimura, who is mostly blunt about it. Not shameless yet not timid either. He acts so mature compared to most others in the room, his attitude delightfully nonchalant and confident, but then it is not a wonder for Akashi, as he knew that this young man had always been maturer than his fellows. Even as an adolescent, those silvery orbs gleamed with a particular attitude and he was composed like an adult most of the time (though whenever he lost it, the end results were always spectacular and particularly entertaining).

After finishing all on his plate as well as his tea, Akashi excuses himself to go to the washroom. Just a few seconds after, while he is still in the hallway he hears the footsteps moving towards him and immediately knows 'who' and 'why', so instead of washroom, where they would be stuck together alone in a confined room, he moves towards the side entrance of the restaurant and exits outside.

“I thought you were going to the washroom, Akashi-san?”

“And I thought you would be smart enough to not approach me like this, Shun.”

The man flinches a little at the use of the familiar name and is unsure whether to take this as a positive sign or a negative sign; Akashi has deliberately avoided referring to anyone with their names during all the chatter and in the rare cases he had to, he used full names or status.

“But I am truly enchanted by you... Akashi-san.”

His voice is soft yet titillating and Akashi entertains the idea of how enticing it would sound if made to scream endlessly such that it would become hoarse. But again, it would be too bothersome to entangle himself with this person, he does not want anything bothersome in his life for the time being. The young student of history is obviously pushy and relentless, would be the perfect stalker material; Akashi despises stalkers, immensely.

“It is natural and I do not condemn you for that but if you think there will be any mutual exchange or reciprocity, you are extremely mistaken.”

“Do not reject right away, could you perhaps think about it? You do... prefer men as well, don't you?”

“I do not have to think about it and frankly, this has nothing to do with my preferences. Simply put, it is even ridiculous that you thought you could ever approach me like this. Who do you think you are?”

Akashi's voice is calm and devoid of any emotion, the person in front of him struggles a little with words, takes a few steps forward, they are less than a hand's length apart from each other now. He is taller than Akashi, by approximately five centimetres the redhead measures with his eyes. Perhaps he thought he would be intimidating and forcefully capture Akashi's attention and compliance like this.

How stupid.

How utterly stupid and foolishly wicked.

Akashi thinks, at most a touch, all it will take is a touch; if this person dares to touch his skin, he will unleash hell onto him. Tonight and for the rest of his life, he will ensure that this man's career within the university and outside is completely annihilated. If he dares to touch him with those hands, they will be broken. Each and every little bone on those delicate hands will be crushed, shattered thoroughly. Akashi has been good at controlling his violent tendencies for too many months now, but he is not going to keep them tamed in the face of such transgression.

Some part of him is almost begging for the touch so that his notorious and well accumulated fury can be freed.

Nijimura's voice disrupts them though,

“Oi, Akashi... There you are.”

“Nijimura-san?”

Kageyama's eyes widen and he turns to take a look at Nijimura and then to Akashi. Akashi is well aware why there is such a surprise, Nijimura probably thinks it is due to a different kind of reason. It does not matter much because Nijimura is already near them in a second, his palm is securely on Akashi's shoulder (it is interesting, how the redhead does not even regard this particular touch to be a transgression of any sort, not even for a second), he speaks, completely ignoring Kageyama's presence,

“Akashi, could I speak to you alone for a moment?”

Kageyama is restless upon this and is about to say something again but Nijimura glares him daggers and Akashi is amused at the intimidating aura Nijimura gives. He had always been fond of that a little; when they were so young and the redhead had not become the captain yet, he had hoped that one day he would have an intimidating aura like his esteemed senpai held. He eventually acquired an intimidating nature, of a very, very different kind though...

“If you could please excuse us?”

Nijimura's tone is authoritative and challenging. Kageyama, who has previously used his own height to establish some sort of dominance is upset under Nijimura's gaze that looks down on him, there is about 10 centimetres of height difference. Kageyama relents, finally, there is nothing he can do and after a final look and nod to Akashi, he turns his back and leaves. Once he is out of sight, Nijimura gives a sigh of relief whereas Akashi gently takes the brunette's paw off his shoulder,

“Do you suppose you have saved me, just now?”

Akashi has never spoken to Nijimura with a commanding voice like this before, so it understandably surprises the brunette as though a gust of chilling wind has suddenly appeared out of nowhere to slap his face in the hot and humid night of July. He blinks a few times, trying to assure himself that indeed the statement came in such a tone from Akashi and perhaps he should not have been so surprised; after all he had expected Akashi to grow up into a man who could sound like that. Still, the voice of the thirteen years old boy, of the little crimson haired young master, so high pitched and almost reserved if blunt and unwavering... he can still hear it in his ears. The contrast is astonishing.

Then he loses it and bursts into chuckling,

“Is it funny?”

Akashi asks, a little vexed at the reaction he elicited.

“No, actually, it is not. Your question is though.”

“Why?”

“Because I would suppose that if I saved anyone, it was not you but him. I probably saved his life.”

Akashi's eyes glint and he too smiles after that response. When he talks next, his voice is much softer and akin to the usual tone he uses with Nijimura,

“He was profoundly hapless and you indeed saved him.”

“Thought so. What a courage though! I had realised he was trying to flirt with you while we were inside but I never thought he would actually confess... Even try to intimidate you like that!”

“It is not good manners to spy on others' private matters Nijimura-san.”

“Hey, I was just interested in the well-being of my kouhai and also the young man who was stupid enough to boldly enter the lion's den...”

Ah, Akashi has always been especially fond of being likened to lions. Nijimura gains a point for that. The redhead leans his back to the wall of the restaurant, it is probably not very clean and if Midorima was around his eyes would widen in a mixture of disgust and surprise; Akashi does not care so much.

Nijimura observes him in silence, then takes a sip from the beer can he has been holding, as if to encourage him before he says,

“I hope I did not disturb anything though... I thought it was pretty clear you were rejecting him so... If you were planning... eventually not to...”

“I think my words were clear enough for neither you nor him to be suspicious that I could ever be interested.”

“So he was not good enough for you?”

“Why are you interested, Nijimura-san?”

“I am not interested specifically, but I guess it makes me curious. I have been straight all my life. Am I prying too much? Sorry.”

“You are prying too much and also being rude.”

“Uh, sorry.”

Nijimura reclines towards the wall as well, near Akashi,

“You are surprised?”

That's all Akashi says, not specifying 'about what', still Nijimura comprehends effortlessly, he has always been smart like that, there is a reason why he had made it to Tōdai's Pharmaceutical Science department,

“I am, I guess... As I said, it is a little new to me.”

“I would think you are better informed about these kinds of things considering you spent years in L.A. and even in San Francisco, apparently.”

“It is different to learn from somebody you actually know. Or rather... how I found you, it was different.”

“You mean, you never thought you would find the boy you last saw as a 14 years old child, small and seemingly frail in body and with feminine face but determined, dutiful, and serious, to end up unconscious in a bar after drinking way too much scotch, his clothes worth three times your monthly income soiled with semen of another man everywhere and body full of bruises that would indicate abuse of a very deviant kind?”

Nijimura gasps and chokes on the mouthful of beer he is drinking. The cat is out of the bag spectacularly, bombastically; and considering Nijimura's reaction he has not planned to take it out of the bag yet, at all. Akashi was a little impatient with the pretence though, thus his arrogant outburst that was voiced as calmly as recounting a childhood memory.

“You... did not have to put it that way.”

“But it was that way, wasn't it? I am not ashamed of it. But do not generalise my case with others. Actually, never generalise these kinds of things. Everyone is a little different in the least.”

“All right.”

“Could I take a sip?”

“You are still underage.”

“Yes, and I would like to take a sip? Or I could go find a store and buy one for myself.”

“Don't they ask for an id?”

“Nijimura-san, I have discovered very early on in my life that many regulations and laws do not apply to you if you have enough money to be an exception. I have much more than enough to be an exception.”

Nijimura sighs in resignation and offers the can. This is something new for example, Akashi had given it 79% probability that Nijimura would outright decline him, with some heavy scolding too. Old Nijimura would. His lack of experience with the grown up Nijimura is screwing his predictions and he does not like that at all now. He does not like beer either, but it will have to do for now as he desperately craves some alcohol. Just as how his flawed calculations will have to.

He takes a sip and it slightly burns his throat. He feels a little better.

“He was not good enough for me. But nobody is good enough for me. That was not precisely the reason why I rejected him.”

“Why did you reject him then?”

“There are a myriad reasons, his insolence being an important one. But I in general prefer not to accept such confessions.”

“Because?”

“Because I simply cannot reciprocate them and unless it is a person I deliberately want to be cruel to, it would simply be too inhumane to give them false hope.”

“What do you mean when you say you cannot reciprocate them?”

“I could not love them. Or rather, I could not love them romantically.”

“Why not?”

“I am incapable of it.”

Nijimura is puzzled and turns to his side, facing Akashi and observing him carefully,

“Do not stare at me like that, please, Nijimura-san.”

“Like how?”

“Like I am a bizarre alien organism, an altogether different species. I am not, technically at least.”

“I am sorry. It is just...”

“Unexpected? Is it also 'interesting', like my tendency to have sex with men? Perhaps you want to put me under a microscope and research?”

Nijimura closes his eyes and bows his head,

“I am sorry, again. It is rude of me. Pardon my ignorance.”

“It is curious, I would assume you to throw a fit after my initial blunt statement. You have changed, haven't you?”

“Well I guess it is obvious at this point that we have all changed.”

“If you are referring specifically to me with that, it is not that my romantic orientation has changed. I was pretty much aromantic during middle school as well. Since I have ever known myself, I have not been interested in pursuing romantic relationships. But if you are specifically referring to my sexuality, then I would assume that it is normal that I changed when I did. I was almost a child, at the early stages of my adolescence when we knew each other. I am an adult now.”

“You are...” Nijimura says absent-mindedly and reaches for the can, Akashi gives it back, the taller man takes another sip,

“The part that I don't understand, if you are not interested in romance, how come you can have such... vigorous sexual encounters?”

Akashi reaches for the can and Nijimura gives it without a thought, after a sip, the redhead starts, his voice is clear and patient (undeservedly so, if you would ask him at that point),

“Sex and romance are not exactly the same thing now, are they? You should know this better than me. I am sure you have at least seen basic physiology in your first year at Pharmaceutical Science. Physiology of sex and romance may be intricate and related at certain aspects, but they are not necessarily the same.”

“They are not, true.”

“Nor are they psychologically. So I am a sexual being and I gain pleasure from the simple mechanics of sex. But I do not look for romance nor do I feel any romantic attachment or longing.”

“Do you not feel any love at all? Or any longing?”

“I do feel love. I am fond of many things and many people. I am fond of you, for example. I am very fond of almost everyone we know from Teikou. I have a friend that I dearly care about. But I do not feel any romantic attachment to any of them. You should know the difference, even though our current culture especially emphasises romantic love, we are all aware of various kinds of love that exist. The parental love, the familial love, the friendship, companionship, camaraderie... List is long and I seem to lack any interest or motivation for one of these, only.”

Nijimura is silent for a bit,

“I think I understand.”

“You do not have to, as long as you don't discriminate or act rude, I do not care much regarding what you think to be honest.”

This surprises Nijimura and he would like to ask but somehow that line of discussion seems too tense to continue, so he switches instead,

“Why did you reject that guy then? You could have had sex with him. He was very good-looking.”

“It is ridiculous for you to ask this question; you are a sexual being and you are romantically capable too, do you simple accept everyone who comes your way?”

“Okay, it was a stupid question. But then considering the statement you earlier made, your sense of sexuality is quite detached and carefree...”

“It is but that does not mean I am not picky. I am very picky actually. Anything that comes with strings attached would bother me. The fact that we go to same school complicates things as well. My social standing is also a significant matter. I would have to eventually deal with him and I would much like to keep campus free of such drama. Even though he was handsome, so you are right, he could be a good fuck.”

The expletive surprises Nijimura. From any other person's tongue it would be meaningless, but Akashi is usually so polite that any profanity is a true sin from his mouth, with all the allure and shock-value a sin can carry. A actual sacrilege. This was precisely why it was uttered in the first place though – Akashi is very amused at the effect, unbeknownst to the brunette.

“So the only reason you rejected him was because it could get messy?”

“Not the only reason, again. One of many. Or are you interested in me listing all of them?”

“No...”

“Why are you so interested anyway? Is it because you have never had sex with anyone you have not loved? Or because you are frustrated these days?”

Nijimura is bewildered at the sudden question, Akashi's tone turns inquisitive, the tip of his tongue is licking the inner edge of his lower lip, the stains of alcohol there; there is a tiny smirk on his ruby lips that is very seductive, Nijimura blinks a few times to disbelieve what he was just thinking and just how Akashi knows.

“How do you know?”

“It is obvious. The latter is evident in the peculiar attention you give, as well as the fact that given your schedule you must have no time for such affairs. The former; you do understand what I'm saying of love in theory, you do not understand how it would work in practice. But in truth, something in you says, perhaps you do? Perhaps that's what you have lived all your life? You probably had your first relationship there, in L.A. – it must have been hard? You were a foreigner, you could not even speak the language well at the beginning. You struggled. You thought you gained affection. You pleased yourself in their arms. Now you are here near me and after hearing my case, you cannot help but question your own case. It is good that you ask these questions, I think everyone should at one point in their life. But I do not think you are like me, still do not think that just because someone told you they loved you, they actually loved you. Nor that sex requires love or love requires sex. Nor that women and men fit together perfectly and any other combination would not. Matters of heart and flesh are quite more complicated than that.”

Akashi rises the can and drinks the last drops, then he licks his lips wet again, there's slight alcohol in his speech when he mumbles though he is clearly sober,

“You have made me speak too much Nijimura-san.”

“I am sorry.”

“You are saying sorry way too many times today.”

“Well I am sorry...” Nijimura utters, playfully this time though and his gaze becomes fixated as Akashi licks his lower lip fully one last time, his tongue is lighter in colour than his flushed lips and fiery hair... If there is one colour that would perfectly define this man, it is red; his body bears and elicits all kinds of red.

Nijimura is simply mesmerised, taken captive at the smallest gestures of that tongue, of the warm and wanton lips.

“Do not stare at me like that Nijimura-san.”

“Like what?”

“Like you would like to touch me. I am afraid you would burn.”

“You do realise that making such sentences will only encourage me?”

“Yes. I do realise that.”

Why has Akashi put forward and accepted the possibility so effortlessly and naturally at that moment in time, he does not know; he will never know.

A silence ensues, Nijimura turns his back to the wall again, ponders for a second, there is nobody here as the side entrance of the restaurant actually opens to a narrow back street, he turns to his side again and take Akashi's chin in his hand and slowly moves his face towards himself, the redhead smiles and there is a glint in his eyes, Nijimura remembers this glint clearly. It is enchantingly threatening, like a Siren's eyes before she starts to sing...

It is infinitely and shamelessly dangerous and it is infinitely and shamelessly alluring. Akashi speaks in a very soft but equally precise tone, his tongue velvet and words sweet poison,

“You must know this: you are one of the few people I actually trust almost naturally. Hence, I tend to believe you would not cause any drama. Hence, I will not reject you. But you must know by now that I would welcome you only to appease my flesh and yours.”

Indeed, Akashi's ominous words seem to only encourage Nijimura more; for he leans in and claims the enticing red lips without a word or second to spare.

Chapter Text

When he opens his eyes, he can differentiate that this particular white ceiling does not belong his own apartment. Before he can get angry at himself he remembers the events of the last night and turns his gaze to his side, the source of heat and very slight snoring, Nijimura is sleeping, naked. Akashi has to admit that Nijimura looks good; his toned muscles are highlighted under the sunshine seeping in from the window and his sleeping face is free of the usual almost-scowling expression, this allows his lips to look fuller, his cheeks to look softer, and overall he has a much more tender demeanour.

Akashi likes looking at his attractive bed partners before they wake sometimes, depends on what kind of a night (or day) he has had with them. This is the first time he has ever slept with a person he knows so well, not that he knows Nijimura well enough right now, but all his previous bed partners had been almost complete strangers. He had thought of giving it a go with some people he knew of but he had always decided against it at the end. He is not sure why he so easily agreed or rather invited Nijimura in the first place; it had been entertaining watching his once aloof 'senpai' crumble under simple licks and a seductive gaze. Though considering the prowess the brunette showed last night, he is either naturally well skilled or experienced, or perhaps both. Ah, he would have liked to try Nijimura's full potential, unfortunately they only did what Akashi would consider a good make out session, though others could have classified it as sex. Akashi has higher standards on what he regards as sex. He expects Nijimura to be nonchalant when he wakes, but how it will evolve in the next days and weeks? He is not sure. It is a good thing that the school will be on vacation and he will be travelling soon; first to Kyoto then to Europe. He does not expect Nijimura to be clingy, but humans have an endless potential for irrationality.

He decides to take a shower as the humid and hot air of July smothers him and Nijimura lacks a proper air conditioner. When he is out of the shower, the room smells like a melange of green tea and eggs.

“You're cooking breakfast, Nijimura-san?”

“Yeah... Is tamagoyaki fine for you?”

“Sure.”

“Good, because it seems I have no rice left. Can you believe it? Only pickled vegetables and eggs and some flavours and stuff...”

“It is all right.”

It is indeed all right, Akashi is fond of good food but not necessarily lavish food and Nijimura can actually cook pretty well.

“Do you cook for yourself all the time Nijimura-san?”

“I try to, it is cheaper and healthier. But I am too busy, so not always.”

“You are good at it.”

“Well my mum was usually at the hospital, so I often cooked for my younger siblings.”

Akashi does not comment, he already knew that bit; his comment had been simply to move conversation, he does that sometimes, and somehow Nijimura seems as though he is aware.

“Do you ever cook?”

“Not really. I am afraid I have not tried it.”

“You would probably excel at it if you tried.”

“I would excel at it, if I tried.”

Nijimura chuckles at that, he is practically naked except the short shorts he is wearing in lieu of an underwear but he does not seem to mind at all,

“Will you not have shower?”

“Do I stink?”

“A bit.”

“Is it unbearable?”

“Not at all. Barely noticeable.”

“I'll shower after I finish my meal then.”

“Okay.”

Akashi is a little surprised at their comfort, he had thought Nijimura would not make a fuss out of last night but he had not expected this level of indifference either. He welcomes it, regardless.

After they are done eating, Nijimura goes to shower and Akashi starts collecting his pieces of clothing from various corners of the room, till then he had been wearing his underwear and a t-shirt at least two sizes larger than his – one of Nijimura's. He is almost done dressing up and while his clothing from last night are thoroughly crumpled, they are at least not soiled. Nijimura enters with only a towel around his waist and observes Akashi who is trying to style his hair as much as he can with his hands in front of the full size mirror that stands near at the end of the bed.

“Akashi?”

“Yes?”

“Did your clothes from the other day... Would they really cost three times my monthly income?”

It is the oddest and the most unnecessary question to ask, Akashi turns a little curious and a little amused,

“I assumed your monthly income at about a hundred thousand yen, based on the national average for university students more or less in the same category of living and social status as yourself. To be exact, and not counting my wrist watch, they would cost around three hundred to four hundred thousand yen, depending on the retailer.”

“Wow, maybe I should have just stolen them and sold them on ebay...” Nijimura says, his face is as serious as ever but his voice is extremely sarcastic, hopping to the bed and reclining as he watches Akashi try to get his collar straight and tame the wrinkles.

“I am afraid it would not make much money Nijimura-san; people who wear such clothing do not need to buy second-hand. But I can lend you money if you need it.”

Nijimura chuckles,

“Nah, I am not poor you know.”

“Yes, you are not but you are an extremely dutiful son who would much prefer to not burden his family so you are trying to cover for every expense yourself. It must be difficult.”

“How do you know that?”

“It would be obvious for anybody who even remotely knows or understands you.”

Nijimura thinks for a few seconds and then decides to break silence, his voice calm,

“My father died a year ago.”

“I am sorry.”

“You probably already knew that by one way or another.”

“I had come up with the idea, yes. I am still sorry.”

“Thanks. You are right, I am trying to not burden them. Especially now.”

“It is understandable.”

“I do not think you would understand it, though it is nice for you to say that.”

And it is true, Akashi does not understand it because he finds it quite illogical and against one's self-interest. Duty he understands well, selflessness not so much. He is amused by Nijimura realising the fact and accepting it so nonchalantly though, so he smiles, it is not a happy smile, but a knowing and appreciative one.

“Thanks for the last night.”

He says perhaps to change the subject because he is compassionate towards Nijimura, who devoted his whole life to his family yet lost his father regardless – Akashi simply would not like to cause him recall and ponder so much of his loss. Or perhaps he is simply trying to see if Nijimura will be vexed or not, considering what they did last night. However, brunette is not vexed at all, his voice is nonchalant and he almost shrugs as he speaks,

“I should thank you, it had been a long time. It was fun.”

“It was fun for me as well. It is puzzling though, I would assume a man with your looks and status to be attracting many females. You were enticing quite a few last night even though I was also present, it is a commendable feat.”

Nijimura smirks,

“Some women are shallow I guess, they may turn their face away from great riches or delicate beauty or immense intellect for just a few inches more in height...”

“That was a shallow way to diverge the topic, especially since I would never push you if you did not want to answer.”

“Because you would not have to. You already know. So tell me.”

Akashi smiles again, Nijimura is acting like a child who has met a new person who knows things he could never imagine being knowable and thus would like to play games, test this person's immeasurable acuity – it is amusing and the redhead has always appreciated people acknowledging his pre-eminent comprehension.

“You had mentioned you knew a professor from the lab, though you have many lab courses for you two to have such a close relationship there are only few possibilities, one of which is that you are a research assistant, which would also explain the extra lab coats you have as well as the numerous research related paperwork lying around the room being too advanced for a second year undergraduate student. There is also the fact that I rarely see you in the open areas of the campus, nor in the libraries of the Department of Letters which many male Science students seem to be fond of coming to score some women, you are likely to be either confined to the lab or the main library of the Department of Science. Also, last night one of your friends had mentioned that you work just too much.”

“So?”

“So, you are simply too busy and disinterested to commit to a relationship, too kind and dutiful to use any female classmate as a one night stand, trying to find a good one night stand from outside the campus or at least from another department would again require time which you do not have.”

“You know I always knew you were so smart but it is crazy when you just explain like that.”

“This was a rather simple one, actually, however I am glad it entertains you. I will be taking my leave now, I have too many things to do at home. Again, it was nice to see you Nijimura-san.”

Nijimura smiles and simply says,

“You too.”

He does not get up as Akashi takes his leave and Akashi is glad about that.

A day later he is already at Kyoto and with Reo, who had been adamant about being the first one to meet the redhead. They eat and talk, or rather Reo mostly talks. Reo has recently developed this new obsession of googling every new person whom they meet or hear the name of, so whenever Akashi particularly mentions somebody's name, they start swiping on their smart phone right away, which the redhead finds kind of cute.

“Anyone significant in your life? Other than that ghost boy.”

Akashi chuckles,

“No and I am afraid my answer to this question will never change regardless of how many times you pose it, Reo.”

“You're no fun.”

“Oh, I am lots of fun – just not in matters of heart.”

Reo pouts a little,

“You know, you do not have to love them as a lover to have a relationship. There are many aromantic people who form long lasting relationships with others, who may or may not be aromantic.”

“You started frequenting those Tumblr aromantic blogs again, right?”

“So what if I am?”

“You are not even aromantic. If anything you are the very opposite. We could use your name as its antonym.”

“But you are and you are my friend and I would like to understand you better.”

Reo rarely talks so sincerely without any playful lilt to their voice, Akashi smiles – a tiny smile of appreciation and affection.

“I understand, but please let me be? It is different for everyone, isn't it? My situation is further complicated, as you know.”

And Reo knows, they have been one of the few to realise how Akashi's inner demons lay dormant solely courtesy of the redhead's much improved control and peace of mind. There are things that will not be cured for they run too deep, nor that Akashi would like to remove some of them – at the end of the day, he admits, some of this is what makes him him. Reo is rare in that they see this and accept Akashi as such. Kuroko could never, for example; he would foolishly believe in his own idea of truth and ideal and try to save Akashi. Not that the redhead has not been influenced positively by the last bout of such self-sacrificing messiah complex, still, he is also well aware of its limits as well as its underlying selfishness and thus is averse to it in a holistic sense.

“Well, when or if you do get into a relationship, you should tell me.”

“Hmm... Wouldn't that hurt you?”

“It would but it would also make me happy.” is the sincere answer he receives again; there is a part of his heart that says he could never let Reo know in such a context until the inevitable moment of revelation brought itself, but then there is even a larger part of his mind that says thinking of such a hypothetical context is ridiculous in the first place – he will never have someone like that.

He does not have to, he should not need to... right?

The tiny crack of uncertainty deep in his consciousness regarding his own acceptance of solitude has always bothered him, so he decides to ignore its existence once again and smiles to Reo instead of giving an answer.

His calming reunion with Reo unfortunately cannot help lessen the distress he feels the moment he sits down for dinner with his father in the evening. The rest of the night is spent on snide comments back and forth, each witty and poisonous, but perfectly superficially cordial. The next morning's breakfast is passed similarly but an additional layer of repulsion is laid when his father comments at the 'awfulness' of the 'perverse new traditions' in reaction to a news item on the newspaper about some gay pride march somewhere in the world. He has never closely felt associated with these kind of things, he is on the privileged side of the society in everything and he would like to keep it as such; social justice has never been an area of particular interest to him in practice because he truly believes in the evil of humanity and how impossible it would be to truly gain justice for all. And if not for all, then it could never be justice per se. Thus, if he can become powerful and victor in his own affairs and also protect those he is fond of, he is fine with just that much.

None of it changes the fact that his appetite is lost.

The next three days at home are like torture. His father is more present these days and he would wish he was as absent as he had been when Akashi was a child. As if his father's exasperating presence is not enough, his dear horse is diagnosed with an illness that is likely to be his last considering his age...

There are few living beings Akashi actually is affectionate towards, his horse is one of them, so the news vexes him but he cannot even show it. Partly because he is simply not allowed to, his father would raise hell over what he would deem an unbelievable weakness, and partly because he has been so conditioned since childhood that he should not show his feelings in such occasions, he is truthfully bewildered on how to show them in the first place.

He takes a picture of his horse sleeping in his last night in Kyoto and combs his mane. Despite the colourful icons on his phone's screen inviting him to share the shot with the whole world (he will never be able to empathise with the nature of his generation that is centred on oversharing and how this is etched onto every device and aspect of their everyday lives), he saves the image in the encrypted folder of his more private digital possessions. There are three things Akashi ever deems so private: his business dealings, his sexual dealings, and evidences of his innocence – the first two are deemed private solely out of the nasty end-results they may lead it to if exposed, but the third is kept private for it is the most fragile and resilient, the most hated and adored thing in his world. He has a complicated relationship with the remnants of his naiveté.

That same night as he tosses and turns in his ridiculously large bed, his hobby of observation resurfaces and he spends half the night looking through various social network accounts of his friends; so perhaps oversharing is not that bad a thing, if it is allowing him such easy reconnaissance as well as amusing pastime. Between Kise's countless duck face selfies and Aomine's shots of his absurdly large basketball shoes collection, his curious mind wanders and in a move more like Reo and less like him, he searches for Nijimura's accounts. Apparently the brunette's internet presence is little and more on school pages than facebook or twitter; he does have an instagram account full of shots of colourful liquids in beakers and test tubes than selfies. It fits somehow. It amuses Akashi and by the time sleep claims his tired eyes, he has been looking at a particularly humorous picture of Nijimura glaring murderously at a test tube.

When he finally returns Tokyo, it feels as though he can breath a little easier. He thinks that a couple more years and he will stop associating with his father completely. That will be for the best. The older man would not mind either, as long as the dutiful son managed their companies properly, which Akashi has no doubt he will.

He is going to leave in a few days for Europe, half his friends are already scattered around the globe or Japan for vacation, apparently Kagami and Kuroko are taking a “staycation”... Just a few days, he thinks, and he will be too busy to even think about things that bother him. About Kuroko. About his unyielding obsessions and curiosities. About his demons. About his father.

Still after a sleepless night spent with a calligraphy brush in his hand and his fingers covered with pitch black ink by the sunrise, he almost feels strangled at home and decides to go out for a stroll. There are few places he could visit, he would like to go to an open area with the least number of people if possible, for which, he realises the best bet is the campus. No mushy couples littering around like they do in the parks nor large crowds of the bustling city centre; just a few researchers and graduate students should be the only ones left.

This is how he ends up lying down on a bench in a sunny morning in the campus. His mind wanders to Kuroko... He finds this extremely ironic: if he was actually capable of romantic love, then all this pondering about his former teammate would actually mean something, but now it is no more than an obsession conjured by various delusions of his mind. He has always been a possessive one, about things he is fond of, about people he is fond of... It is similar on certain facets, it is nowhere near in others. He recalls his horse out of nowhere and a deep frown settles in his face... He will miss Yukimaru. Is this the kind of yearning people feel towards their beloved ones? Not just 'beloved' in a sense he could feel but in the sense they claim to be: a romantic significant other.

Probably not.

They would not differentiate it so vehemently if it was similar. Still, he cannot understand why his tender care for the being he shared his secrets with all his childhood spent alone in a mansion that was more of a prison than a home – why should it matter less than the jealous, capricious, consuming passion a human feels for another? They do such cruel things out of that passion, why would it be necessarily kinder or better?

There is no explanation for this, the mainstream opinion and culture have simply decided to be irrational and he could live it with it if they were also not so self-righteous about the whole matter; their grandiosity irritates him to no end.

“If you keep on frowning like that, you will get wrinkles like I did.”

The face of the man who is leaning onto him a little does not have any wrinkles but he will eventually, because he does truthfully scowl quite a bit in his neutral state.

“Nijimura-san.”

“Akashi. What are you doing here?”

“Taking a break. Yourself?”

“I am just going home actually...”

“Pulled an all-nighter? You work too much.”

“Well I have to... We have a big project we have to finish by September. No vacation for me.”

“It is good to be occupied than idle. You are contributing to the future of our country and humanity, as a scientist.”

That humours Nijimura, and it should because that is precisely why Akashi has said it.

“Are you mocking me?”

“Not at all. Compared to things I will be doing in the future, yours will probably matter more on an objective and moral setting in the macro scale of things. You will help the development of our culture and civilisation and I will help make the rich richer, the middle class buy more junk, and exploit the lower class furthermore as if it is their god-given destiny. However, in a micro scale and the mainstream order of values, I will be worshipped while you will be ignored, understandably.”

“Don't tell me you are a Marxist or something?”

“I would have to start by massacring my own family, including myself, in the name of revolution and while I would not so much mind my father disappearing, I am rather fond of my own life.”

Akashi's tone was calm and sarcastic though there was not so much sarcasm in his words in reality and as if caught on to that fact Nijimura's smile morphed into his usual scowl slowly... Silence falls over them... Then languidly Nijimura's gaze wanders down Akashi's body and the redhead has already realised what captured his attention.

“It is ink.”

“It looks...”

“Scary?”

“Horrifyingly enticing.” Nijimura says as his fingertips brush on those of Akashi, covered in various shades of black.

“You have a morbid sense of aesthetics.”

“Hmm? I've always regarded myself normal actually, but maybe I am not so much...”

“I can tell you: you are not so much... what people regard as normal, that is.”

“You don't regard the normal as what people regard as the 'normal'?”

“Rather, I do not believe in 'normal'... and frankly, what they regard as normal is only the blandest, the most banal, the most monotonous of the options. Always.”

“Probably true...”

“It is true.”

Nijimura's fingers stubbornly trace the markings of black, as if they were carvings of a holy nature,

“Why ink? Do you draw?”

“I do calligraphy.”

Nijimura takes one of Akashi's hands then and Akashi lets it, the brunette's fascination is entertaining to watch...

“It must look good... You drawing like that.”

“Don't tell me you are turned on by that.”

“It would be aesthetically pleasing. And I might be just a little frustrated.”

“Are you coming on to me Nijimura-san?”

Nijimura does not answer in words and instead pulls Akashi up gently, holding his hand.

A glance.

A nod.

A tiny smile.

No words are spoken but a lot is said.

They start walking back to Nijimura's place silently and in slow steps.

“Now that... that was good.”

“It was obviously good; I was involved.”

Nijimura chuckles as Akashi stands from the bed fully nude to get a glass of water from the looks of it. In all honesty, Akashi is beautiful. Even though he may have looked childishly small at times in the court as all their acquaintances have bigger than average builds, he is not minimal at all. More importantly, regardless of the scale, it is as if his body has been personally handcrafted by God: perfectly symmetrical, perfectly proportional, from his face to his toes, Nijimura's eyes wander and loom and he cannot find a single spot of imperfection sans his now blackened fingertips which give him an otherworldly aura and only add to his sublimity than actually count for a flaw...

One would perhaps say that his heterochromia is what shatters the perfect symmetry of this person's beauty, Nijimura thinks they only highlight the fact. He thinks they are foreboding, enrapturing, a true testament to this person's uniqueness, oh and how maleficent they glint in the most ardent moments, even remembering unleashes a thousand shivers of want inside him... He has always been easily influenced by exquisiteness but has never acted on it so impulsively; he is glad he has though, this felt better than anything he ever experienced.

In any case, it is simply unthinkable for Nijimura how nobody has ever truly captured such an impeccable young man.

“Have you ever had a relationship?”

Akashi turns his face to Nijimura, who swears to God he had never thought the full frontal nudity of a man could ever look this attractive... He sips from the water again before responding,

“Assuming you mean the romantic kind, I thought this would be obvious but no, I have not.”

“Why?”

“Isn't it a given? I do not feel romantic love.”

“But you do love people. As friends, colleagues, family... Plus people have relationships for many reasons, only one of which is romantic love, right? You could have a relationship.”

“In theory yes and there had been a time when I wondered about the possibility. It would have to be a friend for both of us to be comfortable. However, it is hard to find a person who would interest me enough to be a friend in the first place. And if it is a friend, I would not like to hurt them and they would be hurt if what they require is a reciprocal romantic love which I would not provide.”

“Not everyone would necessarily require it though?”

“True but it is not easily feasible. I have not yet met anybody with whom I could realise such a scenario.”

“Really?”

Akashi's eyes and thoughts stray simultaneously – his eyes to somewhere on the wall though he is not looking at what he is physically seeing, but a distant memory, of a smile, of a touch... of a person. His gaze and remembrance intersect on Kuroko.

“Once there had been a person who I thought could be like me, an aromantic or similar... or at least perhaps accept the situation that I was in. But I was a child then and he was a child too.”

There is one thing he never says because he hates to say it and there are only three cases in his life where he had been forced to admit it, albeit externally only for two of them...

Mistakes – they are simply not features that are akin to Akashi. A mistake is an abomination that should have never existed in his life, ugly cracks in his perfection, distasteful moments of much unneeded self-reflection... He often cannot bear to admit it (a mistake that is) vocally and thinks that perhaps this in itself could count as a fourth case of it, for he is fallible like every mortal is despite how abhorrent that particular fact is, but he stubbornly refuses and contests that last argument of his already weak conscience, which seems to be in complete defeat against his ego almost at all times.

He does not have to say it though, Nijimura gets it anyway.

“It must be hard.”

“Not really. It was perhaps while I was growing up but I've been brought up a warrior, a general of sorts, always ready to face challenges and I have faced many of them, I guess eventually it proved to be lesser of my issues. Honestly, I am not too keen on having a relationship in the first place.”

“So you have other issues?”

“By the way, how much are you charging?”

The insinuation that might be hidden in the question (considering that they just had sex, that Akashi is completely naked in front of him, that he is still lazying in bed also completely naked) perplexes Nijimura and his eyes widen in surprise, Akashi smiles, wicked and alluring, his hand moves to place the empty glass on the counter,

“Since you are so interested in hearing me out, I assumed you were planning to become my therapist or something? For your information, I am not interested in such things so I would not pay you. Oh, but perhaps you assumed it was for sex? For that, I would assume you would have to be the one paying me and I am afraid my price would not be an amount that could be calculable, let alone payable...”

Akashi pauses for a second, taking in the utterly bewildered face of Nijimura with delight, then continues calmly,

“I would like to use the shower now and I will have to leave right away afterwards as I am afraid I have too many things to prepare before my trip to Europe...”

Nijimura is speechless at the cheeky little stunt and for a second ponders whether or not he should just burst into the shower while Akashi is there. He decides against it as he has always been a little reluctant at pushing the redhead's buttons, it is not something based on meticulous analysis or anything, rather pure animal instincts; he somehow feels that Akashi does not respond well to being pushed around... Not that anybody should. God, perhaps he is an awful being. Considering he has been casually sleeping with his kouhai, yes, he is definitely an awful being.

But the sex was great... his mind reminds him and self-blaming does not return afterwards.

The next weeks are completely devoid of Akashi and completely full of work to the point that Nijimura does not even think of the events, or the fact that he has so casually slept with his male kouhai... twice. Any other person would probably have to sit down and interrogate themselves, their sexuality, their ideas of romance; not Nijimura though, he is too busy to do that. His mother still tells him to take it easy every time they talk on the phone but he is well aware that now all their futures reside on her shoulders, some of the left-over medical fees are hampering as well, he thinks of the future... the future of his siblings; perhaps he should not have been so adamant about leaving Pharmaceuticals. He would have earned much more after graduation but then it had always been a field he took on solely due to his father's condition, he never really liked it much, he never really likes anything to do with hospitals and medication and medicine much, and he would have to graduate much later... Anything he can do to earn money sooner, to be able to properly support his family sooner, the better it is. He is not sure whether it is tragic or a blessing that more or less the same happened during his teenage years in high school; he was always so busy, with home, with his father at the hospital, with his siblings, with family... He rarely had the time to actually be a teenager, go through the struggles of youthful angst and worries, of questions of sex and romance... It is not that he did not feel them, it is not that he did not experience them at all; it is simply that they had been much lighter, much insignificant, much in the background, much out of focus... compared to his other worries in life.

Years have passed and it is still the same.

In mid August, finally wrapping up the major experiment they were busy with earlier than expected, their professor in charge decides that it is time to party and drags all his staff (a total of measly six people for a project that would normally require ten) to a bar that is often frequented by the students. It is not a party per se but an occasion of drinking the pain and tears of the preceding months away, and as soon as he starts gulping down the alcohol a relief washes over Nijimura's body... The main hurdle is finally over. However, his grades were not as he had wanted them previous term, he has some time now before the school starts again to revise things and even though the thought kills him because he is not really fond of studying, he has no other choice. His line of thought and lazy planning are disrupted when he feels a delicate hand on his shoulder... A young and beautiful woman courts him.

He is not unused to this. When he had first gone to the US, he had suddenly become the focus of his entire school and there were two typical reactions he had to endure: people who mocked and belittled him for his lack of proficiency of English and threw racial slurs at him and people who fawned over, 'adored' his broken English and threw fetishising compliments at him. From his point of view, they were not that different from each other: in both cases, it was not him they saw and disliked or liked, it was an abstract concept of what they thought was him based on countless stereotypes and––

Well, if Akashi was there he would articulate it eloquently with complex anthropological and sociological terminology but Nijimura knew this simply: it irritated the fuck out of him. As he had settled down there, he had thought that he had become used to it, but truly it is never something you get used to, every time a person approaches, you start wondering what their game is, which side they are really on, the idea that they may belong to neither seems like a ridiculous utopia. He had thought, he had believed that things would be different when he came back and he could connect with people at a more intimate level but it took a surprising turn for him: he had been away for a considerable time. It took a lot of time and effort to adjust back, it was as if he was home but not at home at the same time and it did not help how people again regarded him in two superficially opposite but structurally twin ways: they either were suspicious of him or too interested in him solely for having spent years outside the country and regarded him more of a foreigner than a Japanese person. While it was irritating at the beginning, especially around the time he lost his father, by now he felt that regardless of where he went things would be screwed up. The best was to not think about it so much.

So he decides not to think about it so much.

After all, she is pretty and cute, petite around 155 centimetres in height, her lips are a little swollen and pink and glossy, she tugs on him and makes small talk and he is not even sure what they are talking about because he is not interested in talking with her at all...

Normally, this is the point he would excuse himself and leave. He decides against this and stays, his eyes devour the woman, she doesn't seem to mind and welcomes his gaze with a sly grin. She is sober compared to him and she smiles and she whispers and he thinks why not. She mentioned she was studying History, normally Nijimura has not been fond of one night stands and especially prefers not to mingle half-heartedly with people within his close social circle and since he had entered the university he had somehow made this 'circle' to include almost the whole campus but now thinks, Department of History is just distant enough... They don't even have classes in the same buildings.

Though he thinks about taking her home for a second, he decides against this too, it is a one night stand after all; it would not be a very good idea to do this at home. This is the point some part of him reminds, internally, but you took him home. But, he is different,he reminds himself, he is a friend.

I trusted him.

I trust him.

(I don't trust this person, she is a stranger.)

That is the only time he thinks of Akashi that night.

After moments of passion well savoured, all happened and already wrapped up within an hour, they leave the love hotel and he realises how he has sobered up, he gets a cab to take her home. It is only in the next morning he actually thinks of Akashi again when he wakes up in his own bed and a slight headache reminds him of the last night and he thinks, wow, he has done it. He went ahead and had a one night stand with a stranger, someone he did not love or know.

It felt good, he thinks. There is indeed no specific causal relation between sexuality and romance but he understands that their dynamic is much more complex. He has to admit though that it felt better with Akashi and not just because Akashi is incomparably more skilled at this but because he knows Akashi.

The first time he has had sex with somebody he has not known and thus has never trusted; he realises just how intricate of a relationship sex has with trust, perhaps its effect on sex is much more important than love's, he muses...

He does not have much more time to think about sex though. They may have wrapped up the experiment but he still has some reports to finish at the lab, a few more days of work. This is when he coincidentally meets Midorima; one day after his one night stand, at the noon with scorching sun outside, he has met a friend at the main library of Faculty of Medicine trying to get some assistance with a particular section in his report that has a lot to do with mitochondrial protein homeostasis. It is impossible to miss Midorima, his height stands out too much, he is at least two heads higher than everyone in the large halls. He has not lost the habit of adjusting his glasses when he is annoyed and he must be annoyed with something for he does it every five minutes after taking another glare at his notebook. Nijimura approaches him after his own work is handled.

He is surprised, he has to admit. Just like he had been with Akashi, for Midorima is also peculiarly different than and peculiarly the same as before. His antics are similar, his glare is no different than before, he is taller (and damn, he is indeed taller than Nijimura himself is and this feels a little strange – Nijimura is not used to feeling short), but despite still appearing much stoic he is more approachable somehow, he is polite if a little arrogant, he is very surprised to find Nijimura a Tōdai student (which is vain as hell but Nijimura has been too used to the arrogance of this bunch so it doesn't perturb him, what catches his attention though is the fact that this means Akashi has not notified Midorima of Nijimura's presence in their campus)... Oh and there is a pair of orange and red bracelets on his wrist, it is extremely simple, two plain strings.

“Your lucky item for the day?”

He asks pointing to Midorima's wrist,

“No, a gift. My lucky item is this.”

It is a stuffed bear that Midorima pulls from his bag near him and Nijimura only smiles, congratulating himself for managing to not burst into laughter in the quiet library.

A few days later, Nijimura has already submitted his reports and is ready to enjoy his vacation a little, when he gets a text message from Midorima asking him to join him and others from Teikō for dinner. It is very surprising and he is absolutely sure the idea does not belong to Midorima. He confirms this too the moment he enters the restaurant and Kise jumps up, Kuroko smiles large which is very uncharacteristic for him, and Aomine grins genuinely happy. There is also a young man who lights up, his eyes amber and his hair pitch black, Nijimura notes how he wears a matching green and red string bracelet on his wrist. Oh... so it is like that.

Turns out Midorima's friend, Takao, the amber eyed young man is the culprit to blame for informing everyone of Nijimura's presence in the city after Midorima tells him passingly, everyone is excited to meet him again. It feels strange to see the boys whom he commanded and regarded as teammates but also as brats to look after for, now all grown up. He especially hates how good Aomine looks and his muscle structure is perfect and as he talks about basketball, Nijimura is already sure that this man is the ace that will change the history of Japanese basketball forever despite his nonchalance and ridiculously huge ego.

If only Akashi... If only he had a chance to continue with basketball, together they could write history.

Nijimura's own absence in that formula hurts him a little but he has always been mature enough to accept and handle the great skills of the miracles around him...

There is one more peculiar person he realises very early on, sitting near Kuroko and occasionally bickering with Aomine is a redhead called Kagami. Apparently he is Kuroko's roommate and they were also in the same high school. They are pretty close and it is almost shocking for Nijimura, how Kuroko gives these small smiles, makes sarcastic jokes, nudges with his elbow or leans into Kagami... He has seen Kuroko being friendly with others before, he and Aomine were quite close at one point, but does not remember them being like this. Kagami and Kuroko look almost inseparable.

Conversation comes to revolve around their Teikō days and some random memories and lots of laughter are shared (though he can feel something is wrong about the latter days of Teikō because nobody seems to recount anything about those days, or Haizaki for that matter), then the subject turns to how each is doing now and after they all talk about their current lives (and Nijimura is especially surprised at Kise's talent, he is juggling university, basketball team, and modelling apparently – he looks extremely childish sometimes given his antics but he is perhaps one of the maturest amongst them), Nijimura asks about Murasakibara... Apparently he is good. Nijimura openly wonders how is Murasakibara dealing with life alone, he has depended on Akashi a lot... He admits that he is even surprised he ended up somewhere so farther away from Akashi.

“Well, it is life...” Kise says thoughtfully,

“Plus he has a new mama now.” Aomine chimes in and smirks at Kagami's way for some reason and Kagami gets incredibly riled up at some insinuation in that statement which Nijimura cannot decipher.

“He has changed a bit.” Kuroko tries to explain,

“Everyone has...” Kise concludes,

“Akashi included.” Midorima adds after the fact.

“Well everyone changes and we were kids then, it is expected. So it is normal... But I still think there is some part of you that stays same. Akashi included.” Nijimura comments,

“Well you haven't met Akashi though...” Aomine scoffs, which somehow irritates Nijimura so he spills,

“I actually have.”

That has the figurative effect of a bomb being dropped on their table.

“You have?!” Midorima seems to be the most surprised one, his eyes large and tone both confused and upset,

“Yes. We saw each other a couple of times.”

And had no strings attached, hot, tender sex. Nijimura does not pronounce that last bit.

“I never knew...” Midorima mumbles,

Nijimura wonders if he has made a mistake revealing it.

“It is just like him to not tell...” Aomine shakes his shoulders in a gesture of 'whatever', Midorima seems to be still stuck at it though,

“But we play shogi every month. I saw him just before he left for Europe.”

“Wait, the day you rejected my offer to see the new Marvel film, saying you had a prior arrangement with a friend?”

“Yes. What about it?”

“I can't believe Shin-chan stood me up for Akashi. Like... Akashi of all people!”

“It was the last time we could play shogi, he has been away all summer.”

“Who cares?! Why do you even play with him in the first place? You know in the odd chance that you are victorious, he may commit seppuku or worse, kill you off.”

“He is not like that... any more.”

He is indeed not like that and Takao has spoken too harshly, he knows, but if there is one miracle he cannot bring himself to ever like, it is Akashi. He has never seen Midorima cry like when Akashi makes him cry. It irritates the hell out of him; how deep the bond between them lies, how Akashi understands Midorima so intimately, how he could so truly pain or anger Midorima... He is the only other person capable of such affect and does not like to share this privilege with the diabolical emperor wannabe.

Nijimura is piqued though:

“What do you mean 'any more'?”

“Uh...”

A silence falls around them and for some reason everyone is reluctant to elaborate. Nijimura's eyebrow shift in suspicion,

“Come on?”

“Things went a little bit out of control after you left... Nijimura senpai.”

“Especially with Akashi.”

“Says the guy who was worst of us all!” Kise retorts glaring at Aomine,

“Hey! I was not violent at least...”

“Weren't you?” Kuroko looks intently,

“Not... unless extremely needed and completely unavoidable! Damn. Not like Akashi, I never declared to gouge my eyes out if I lost a game!”

Takao gulped down his soda,

“That... that was really scary.”

“He said something like that?”

Nijimura's voice is surprisingly unsurprised, but he feels the sickness rising in his stomach... Kuroko clears his throat then and speaks,

“You see... things changed a little after you left and Akashi-kun...”

As Kuroko explained some of the things they went through in their last year in Teikō and then later in high school, Nijimura got the sense that he summarised too much and carefully ignored some of the most scandalous bits; at least that was how it seemed based on others' reactions to Kuroko's words. What captured Nijimura's interest the most was the kind of voice and words Kuroko used specially for Aomine's and Akashi's cases; it was obvious that he had been personally invested and worried the most about them... The undertone during his little talk and the awkward silence that followed seemed to suggest that while they all thought the worst was over, they were still a little bit uneasy near Akashi.

Nijimura thought many things while Kuroko spoke but did not care to discuss anything. One thing he knew, he would like to hear the story from Akashi as well. One often thought things made sense in their point of view but things could look very different from another's.

He had heard what Kuroko thought and felt, but what about Akashi?

Only two days after their little get together, Nijimura receives a text message from Kuroko this time inviting him over for a basketball game. It turns out they play basketball occasionally, with some of their mates from high school joining as well as the main Teikō gang, Haizaki is again nowhere to be seen and Nijimura does not comment on how alienated they all seem from him. He also does not wish to open up the subject of Akashi again... He has felt angry at both himself and them but mostly at himself; he was a child too, he knows, he had so much burden to bear too, but he cannot help finding fault in his choices then...

They are all a little shocked when he says he could play as a point guard, which is the position that is especially lacking that day, too many power forwards... His skills as a power forward and small forward are good but he realises he is weak compared to Aomine, Kagami, and Kise respectively... Takao is pretty good too as a point guard, but he easily beats any others on that spot.

If Akashi was there, they all would be utterly defeated.

He remembers how he felt the first time he saw the young boy, hair scarlet like the last moments of a majestic sunset, gaze unfaltering and strong like that of a seasoned general, face smooth and beautifully curved like a pretty child's... He was intense and weird and though he gave off that aura, Nijimura had a hard time believing he could play basketball well enough to be in the first string of Teikō.

The moment Akashi started playing, Nijimura was awed. But what awed him the most was actually afterwards: the heir of the greatest business conglomerate in all of Japan, the boy with wisdom and intelligence well beyond his years, the child who has always accomplished everything in full perfection... spent his days practising as though he desperately needed it. How hard-working and dutiful Akashi was – it was astonishing to Nijimura.

It still is, he finds himself, and he also finds himself wishing Akashi was there with them to play...

He does not say anything about this.

Kuroko does near the end though, “It would be even more fun if Akashi-kun was here...”

He is smiling a little and a few nods happen and a notable “tch” on Takao's part. At the end, Kagami simply swoops the smaller youth up in his arms, Kuroko is drenched in sweat, his body completely spent and Kagami is rolling his eyes.

When they are all returning home, Nijimura already deep in thought that perhaps he should work out more, he absent-mindedly realises Kuroko and Kagami walking away a few metres in front of him... As his eyes refocus he realises, they are right next to each other, chatting as they walk, Kuroko is smiling, and their hands or arms touch to each other with every step, as they slightly lean in and away from each other. It is almost nonexistent but it is there. It looks almost accidental but Nijimura can feel it is not. Not with Kuroko. Not with Kuroko smiling cheerfully and charmed like that. Not with the redhead wild in court looking so tender like that.

Ah, Nijimura thinks...

So they are like that.

Chapter Text

Akashi does not inform Nijimura of his return because there is no reason to. A week passes in absence of the knowledge that Akashi is back and Nijimura only finds out the fact one morning as he is walking to the library hoping to study a bit instead of lazying around at home (honestly he hates lazying at home, for a person who has rushed from one obligation to another all his life, even though he desperately craves lazy days free of any tasks or duties, he is horrifyingly bored when he actually gets them – no solution to his continuous stress is found yet).

Akashi is sitting on a bench and jotting down god knows what on a little notebook in his hands.

“Hey!”

Akashi's features are cold and graceful as usual, even in the face of scorching weather, but his eyes attain this particular glint for a few seconds as he lifts his face up to the familiar sound and regards Nijimura.

“Hello.”

“So you are back?”

“Yes, it has been a week.”

“Welcome back.”

“Thank you.”

“So why are you in campus instead of enjoying your holiday?”

“I am afraid I have been dealing with some nasty bout of insomnia since I've been back. I could not sleep and I am pretty busy, too many events and responsibilities... I am actually writing down a speech for a reception I have to attend tonight. Thought sunlight could help me feel better.”

“Hmm too bad. I hate insomnia. Is it because of jet-lag or something?”

“I never really get jet-lag so I doubt. It must be fatigue.”

Akashi knows very well why he is battling insomnia and it has nothing to do with any physical fatigue: it is his frustration that is fuelling his consciousness to an agonising wakefulness continuously. His trip was terribly boring, obligatory meetings, preplanned introductions, mornings and days and nights spent amongst the most privileged of the world...

He hated it.

He hates it.

Because it is extremely dull, unbelievably shallow, and absolutely predictable – that's how they are, the ones at the top, the ones higher than those at the top... One would think since such people have immense wealth and power that they are perhaps deep, one would think since such people spend incredible amounts of money on art and culture and talk unnecessarily long about intricate details of business and philosophy and politics that they are perhaps complicated and wise...

They are not.

Akashi knows everything about them even before meeting them because learning them is quick and easy and they always fail to surprise him. The most ordinary person off the street would be much more interesting than them because even such a person would be irrational or erratic enough to have one or two moments of unpredictability that would entertain Akashi.

Not these people.

They are hoarders and consumers and that is pretty much all there is to them. Their world revolves around those two simple acts: hoard as much wealth and influence as possible and consume endlessly as though material world is infinite.

Nijimura who now sits near him and makes small talk is nothing like that.

Nijimura is simple but so interesting. You can be sure that you know him fully and he could do something so incredibly irrational or outside his particular personality that would defy any probabilities you had set before. He is so hot headed at times in complete contrast to his usual aloofness, it is vexing and exciting. There is a ton of stuff that worry or agitate him, sadden or madden him, cheer or fascinate him... Banal stuff, stuff of everyday life but they are each colourful and subtle. All in all, Nijimura's simplicity is beautiful, unpredictable, entertaining... and most importantly it is relaxing.

Unfortunately, as Nijimura's gaze falters away into somewhere in horizon, Akashi already knows, already realises that the man is trying to tell him something but is unsure. He does not like this. The moment he saw Nijimura, he had thought, oh this is nice... This simple greeting, this simple gaze, this simple honesty is nice, and he has realised only then just how fond he is of this. Of Nijimura.

But Nijimura's gaze tells Akashi that all that comfort may be shattered in the next minute.

And it does, for Nijimura says,

“By the way, I met others while you were gone.”

It is a simple statement but Akashi is well aware of its implications. It first means that Nijimura has learnt Akashi has not told their friends about meeting their former captain, which might have caused him to come up with several explanations for this, all of which must be wrong. Because even Akashi is not sure at this point why he has never mentioned Nijimura's presence to others. Secondly, it means that the brunette has now learnt the unsavoury bits of the past that Akashi had not informed him of. Akashi had chosen so out of compassion for the man, for Nijimura's personality already makes it certain that a lot of self-blaming would ensue after hearing how things unfolded for the Teikō basketball team after he had left. Thirdly, as a result of the latter, Nijimura also has learnt the particular issues surrounding Akashi, and obviously, not from Akashi's own view and experience but of others. He does not like this because an interrogation of sorts is to follow, for sure.

None should be allowed interrogate Akashi Seijūrō, certainly not Nijimura.

Regardless of his foreknowledge, he chooses to feign ignorance.

“Is that so? I am glad. You must have had a lot of fun.”

“It was nice. We went to eat together once... Then we also went to play basketball once. God, they are all so talented. Aomine is a true beast now.”

Ah, he is changing subjects probably to warm up to the topic.

Akashi plays along,

“He is formidable.”

“What you mean is that he is good but not as much as you are?”

“Obviously.”

“Well, I think it would be cool if you were there too... I thought that while we were playing, actually... that it would be nice if you were there too.”

You must have been the only one to think so is what flashes across Akashi's mind but he dares not acknowledge even the thought, forget pronouncing it out loud... Though it is as if Nijimura has somehow read his mind, for he adds,

“I am sure others felt so as well.”

Akashi could have simply ignored this and continued on with talking, but this statement somehow irritates him enough to do something that would put an end to this charade. He chuckles. It is bitter and bleak.

“I am sure they did.”

The undertone of poisonous sarcasm is deliberately unhidden. He does not even stop there, he cannot somehow, he discards the sarcasm completely and bluntly unveils the truth he dearly believes in,

“Probably only Kuroko and Midorima and solely because they still feel indebted to me in differing ways.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because it is the truth. Could you deny it? Do you have any proof otherwise? I am sure you have some proof of my statement though, don't you?”

Nijimura remembers Kuroko's words and swallows which only causes Akashi to smile and what a disturbing smile it is that Nijimura cannot help but mumble,

“For God's sake, just what the hell happened to you guys?”

“Well you must have a pretty good idea by now since you've met them, I am sure they elaborated.”

“But I want to hear it from you too.”

“Why?”

“Because I want to hear it from your point of view as well?”

“And are you perhaps hoping against hope that it will somehow change the things you heard?”

“What do you--”

“You know what I mean. You are hurt over what you heard and are you expecting that somehow things I say will change it?”

“That is not what I meant. You don't even know what they said or what I thought.”

“Oh but I do. I do not need to be there, I do not need to witness it to know it. They are entertaining people, not very easy to estimate by outsiders, I am not an outsider though and when the topic is my own self, I have a good grip on things.”

“You are exaggerating.”

“You tell me if I am exaggerating. How did you even start to talk about me? Nobody would even dare to, it would be just too distasteful to inform you of it – of it all, what happened after you left, but especially the part about me because they regard the part about me as the worst of all. Because it wasn't just mean or full of angst, it was scary, it was oh so crazy, in a literal sense. They are undoubtedly terrified even though they've never admitted to it. So they jump from one topic to another but it is unavoidable, they start giving some hints about how things got complicated after you left, consciously or unconsciously. Then it must hit my case but how? Tetsuya and probably Ryōta and if present Satsuki would focus on Daiki's case, it is easier to deal with since it is simpler and he was the drama queen after all. But me? Tetsuya would not want to out of courtesy, Shintarō would be a good point of crossing but Kazunari was probably with you all since he is practically glued to Shintarō. This would rule out Shintarō being the connection, nobody would want to upset Kazunari as they are all fond of him; I don't blame them he is rather lovely from an objective view. That leaves one person, the most convenient too because he would not be present: Atsushi. So after you start talking about Atsushi, it would touch upon me and either you would ask or one of them spills something and an interrogation about me starts. You realised horrifyingly how everyone's relationship with me has changed the most, Shintarō would try to rectify much to Kazunari's chagrin and honestly he has always been terrible about communication and explanations anyway. So Tetsuya would take the spotlight and tell you my 'poor sob story'. About how I went 'downhill', how I 'cracked under pressure', how I became a 'monster', how I became 'insane', but how through the sheer power of 'friendship and perseverance' he saved me. He would not be self-righteous or boastful about it though, on the contrary, one hearing the story would think he is the epitome of kindness, that he is very modest. He probably even specifically ignored some rather distasteful parts but to illustrate the magnitude of the problem one or two must have been uttered, either by him or others. So which ones I wonder? Or rather, I don't wonder at all, either my little stunt with the scissors or my declaration to gouge my eyes out – at least one of them or both should have been pronounced at one point? These all would obviously make you very uncomfortable both hearing it all from them and not from me and also just hearing and knowing these, so you tell yourself that you must hear the story from my side as well. Now, was I able to summarise it pretty well? I assume so, based on your face.”

Nijimura shifts uncomfortably and would like to say something but his mouth feels so dry to the point that he cannot drag a single syllable out of it, he is bewildered by how spot-on Akashi is and it feels surreal and painful. Akashi smiles again, it is hostile and twisted,

“I am right. But do you know what else I know? I know very well that it is not just these 'sad' stories made you uncomfortable because of what they mean about us, about me, but what they imply for you. About you. Being the forever dutiful captain, the natural born saviour, you blame yourself. To you, us losing it after you left, me losing it after you left means you are culpable somehow. And it discomforts you. The moment you learnt these things you started blaming yourself for leaving, for leaving the burden to me. You started pitying me. And that is half the reason why you want to hear the story from my side, you are hoping that I will deny some of these and it will make you feel better, or even if I don't deny any of it, at least me being me will assure you that it had nothing to do with you. Your whole deal about hearing the story from my side is rather self-righteous and carefully ignores the part about how desperate you are subconsciously to relieve yourself of any burden.”

“No, I... I--”

“And I will unburden you because, how dare you! How dare you! Yes, it all happened. Yes, they see it from their own point of view and I see it from my own and things look different but facts don't change; yes, I said 'crazy' things and did 'crazy' things, but really? You really think you could stop us from unfolding like that? You really think your presence could save us? How dare you! Surely, if we had more support, it would have been easier but it would not change the end result. Because it was not the cause in the first place. You were not the reason we became what we became and how we became it. Do you or do they have any idea about the kinds of burdens I had carried all my life, beyond the realm of basketball that you are all so sure about your centrality in my life and changes? That I became what I became, I went through the things I went through, solely and exclusively because of basketball? Because of you all? How dare you! I do not need your or their pity or saving. If anything, I tried to save them. In my own way and perhaps it was distorted, perhaps it was unnerving at times. But I tried and I am not sorry for that. I am sorry for hurting them but... they hurt me too. Even if you had stayed, the only change would be that you would be hurt and we would hurt you too. And now, now it is too late already. If you think I am something you can fix, you are only insulting me. That's all.”

It feels as if he is shell shocked. There had been times in the past when they were just children that Akashi would be angry, but they were so few, so rare and it always would turn light-hearted the moment he realised Nijimura's presence and observance. The redhead almost showed the utmost courtesy and gravity to his captain.

This, Nijimura realises, is the first time he has seen Akashi angry, truly enraged. It is nothing like his own red hot fury that easily flames and is easily extinguished; instead Akashi's anger is almost chilling cold in its appearance but it is there and one can realise how deep and immense it is. No flames but smouldering and one can feel how complicated it is, how it will not resolve after an outburst but continue on consuming its owner... He would have wanted to be able to reject the accusations thrown at him but he is confused at hearing them because they sound plausible; he rarely interrogates his own motivations before thinking or acting on something and he is uncertain now. Akashi could be right. Akashi is probably right. This pains him the most and he is about to blame himself again but realises the irony of it.

Akashi must have too for he sits silent there for one or two seconds, his eyes frigid and rigidly defiant despite their warm colours, his hands grip strongly on his notebook and his knuckles have long gone pale white, his lips tighten as if trying to keep some more words from spilling out... Then he stands up abruptly,

“Now that you know, I hope you do not even try to save me or pity me. I am accomplished at keeping my demons away now and I will not deny Tetsuya has partially contributed to that, but it does not mean they are gone. I am capable of things that would disturb you greatly, so unless you would like to witness them, don't you dare try to save me or pity me. Have a nice day.”

Nijimura watches Akashi's back as the man walks away, not stomping or running, his pace not too slow and not too fast. He is as graceful as ever from a distance and Nijimura cannot help but wonder just how... How can he confine so much heat, so many thoughts, so many emotions, so much terror yet keep coldly calm and walk away so gracefully, nonchalantly...

And as Akashi's back becomes blurry after a certain distance, Nijimura exhales a breath he has not realised holding...

Akashi for his part felt bad as well.

He knew this day would come, the moment he had decided to not share meeting Nijimura with rest of their common circle of friends, he knew what it would lead to. He had decided to be blunt about it, there was no other way for him to handle a situation as such. But honestly he had not planned to feel so angry, he had not planned for his voice to be so cutting like a knife nor his words to be so deeply infused with poison and disgust. Most importantly he could not fathom or rather he chose not to fathom, how much of his anger was directed specifically at Nijimura and how much of it was directed at something else, somebody else... inside him.

Three days pass in absolute self-agony for Nijimura and despite his best efforts to simply ignore the matter, he cannot. Akashi is right, he has always been too dutiful and ready to martyr himself for others and he is too ready to do it again now: take the burden and the blame of all that went wrong. It is in itself wrong though, it is self-righteous, it is grandiose in its fake humility and Nijimura cannot stomach it.

He had no choice to leave then and he knows very well even if he knew things would turn the way they did, he would have still left; he had to, it was his father, his family, his most important ones. He cared for his teammates but it had a limit. Selflessness could be selfish and selective.

What hurts him the most is the realisation of the scope of Akashi's solitude... He had always known that Akashi was lonely and it came with his particular family background and character, but to know that Akashi felt so alone and at times alienated even amongst his friends, especially so with his friends... Was it the recent proximity of flesh and emotion they recently shared that caused Nijimura to be especially vexed by this revelation?

Perhaps.

Perhaps not.

All he knew was that he would never forget that cold stare, the glare of an alpha wolf affirming its superiority and the loneliness that came with it. Not even the tone of his voice or his stance or his hands or his eyes or his lips betrayed him – not a single clue of weakness. Was he truly so strong even in his anger, even in facing his own very real devils? Or was he an astonishing actor?

The fourth day, Nijimura had to visit his family and stayed with them till Sunday and even if his mind was clear of Akashi during the day when everyone went to sleep at night, his mind wandered off to Akashi and various things related to Akashi... His physical frustration was also shameless in its remembrance of the redhead, all the passionate details of pleasure and of the languid calm that always followed...

On Sunday he finds himself in campus again and this time it is on a whim but he curses himself inside a little for it being such a stupid wish and why is he so stuck anyway, he swears to himself that if Akashi is not around, and in all honesty it is very unlikely for him to be – school year has not even started, he will call that young lady from the History department and make out with her, because though her persistence in emailing him had turned him off a little, he is feeling frustrated in many ways more than one and it would be a great distraction though he will have to make sure to convey the informality and temporary nature of his inclination to her this time. He had thought it was obvious the first time, but looking at the number of emails he has received afterwards that does not seem to be the case.

Against all odds though, he recognises Akashi. His crimson hair shines an alluring fiery red and from a distance it is like a blazing halo; Michael... He remembers Michael was the warrior one, “or was it Uriel?” he ponders for a second. But no, Michael was the greatest general of them all. If Akashi was an archangel, he would be Michael. It would suit him. Nijimura pauses to dispel his stupid thoughts and moves towards the redhead, he has no idea what to say, for he had been almost sure that he would not be able to come across him. Still he moves, like a moth attracted to the flame...

Before he even faces him Akashi is somehow aware of his presence, he turns, there is no familiar glint of welcome this time but a disinterested “why are you even here?” communicated silently with only a look and Nijimura is surprised he himself can manage to look so unperturbed against such a spiteful gaze.

“Hello there.”

“Hello.”

“Can I sit with you a bit?”

Akashi sighs and puts his little notebook away, he was writing again; what is it this time? Probably another speech? From the looks of it his insomnia has not been cured. There are these dark semi circles underneath his eyes that look ominous on his youthful face.

“I am assuming this means yes?”

“What is it that you need from me?”

“Um, nothing exactly. I...”

“You?”

“I just wanted to say sorry.”

“That seems to happen rather frequent with you towards me, isn't it? And here I thought you were probably a person who had a hard time saying sorry.”

Ouch. Now that hits right where it counts and is very true. Nijimura swallows and is again surprised that he can be so tenacious in facing Akashi, against such words dripping poison...

“You are right. This does not change that I am sorry though.”

“Why would you be sorry though? You did not do anything wrong.”

Ouch. Because Nijimura is well aware that the insinuation here is what Nijimura has been hitting himself hard with: he really did not do anything per se, neither when they argued nor when he left them to themselves at Teikō. It is this self-blaming over something he had nothing to do with that caused them to come to this point in the first place. He exhales, saying, “yes I know I did nothing” would not work here.

“I am sorry because you were right in that I felt self-righteously and with an unwarranted dutifulness and self-blame that would indicate grandiosity... which as you correctly put before is insulting. Though I must admit it was mostly my subconscious.”

“Such a surprise, so you can use smart words when you want to?”

He glares, because that was unwarranted too.

“Can't you take me seriously?”

“Do you want to be taken seriously? Why did you come? Why do you want to talk to me?”

“Because I care for you! Because we are friends!”

“Are we?”

“I would like to think we are. I would want us to be. I thought we were.”

“Even after knowing how I am?”

There's a brutal honesty and curiosity in the question that is uncharacteristic and unexpected and causes Nijimura to falter a second which is fatal because it immediately causes a smile on Akashi's face... A grin that is like a well sharpened knife.

“If you think you can fix me, you are wrong. If you think you are going to share my assumed pain or fury and redeem yourself of your nonexistent past sins for leaving us, you are wrong. And honestly, you were wrong to even come here after what I said last to you because I was not just casually threatening you then, I was stating what would certainly do if you made such a step.”

“But I did not.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes. I...”

He pauses and Akashi is about to speak again and realising this he does something that is probably very stupid and risky but he does not think at that moment: he puts his palm over Akashi's mouth,

“Can you please... Just give me a moment and let me speak. I... I thought about you and this but I did not actually think about what to say to you... Just let me speak.”

The moment he had touched Akashi, all hairs on his body had felt an electric current, he has been in enough fights to recognise the feeling of danger and he had felt it but the second words started spilling off his mouth, somehow Akashi is appeased even if only momentarily, his breathing is calm against his palm and when he moves his hand away Akashi does not move at all, he is calm and listening,

“It is in my character to worry for those around me and regard myself responsible for them even when it is not true. I was a child. You were children. Even if I stayed nothing would change, I know that. I will still wonder about 'what if's though, because it is in my character. But I acknowledge it is particularly useless and even insulting here and I will try my best not to. Do I think I can fix you? No. In the first place, I am not sure if you need fixing. Are you suicidal? Do you harm yourself? Do you harm anybody around you? Perhaps you did once, I don't know, but I don't think you are now. And I have known you, seen you intimately enough to know that. So I am fine. I am fine if you have demons; we all do. Is it abnormal? Is it normal? Who cares. Who decides what is normal? We could take you to a doctor and they could cite some fancy DSM entry as some disorder for you, but then two decades ago they would do the same for both you and me simply for sleeping with each other despite both being male. Their diagnoses are probably more flimsy than our own perceptions of ourselves. I do not want to fix you, because I do not think you need to be fixed, unless you think you do and if you did, I would help you if you let me. But only if you let me. I... I do not want to be your friend or senpai because I want to redeem myself or to fix you. I want to be your friend because I already regard myself as your friend. Because we already share a lot, perhaps too much. So that's it. That really is all there is to it...”

He exhales and closes his eyes. Two things could happen now; either Akashi is placated by his words, or he is not and something in him claims that the latter option could be more dangerous than it seems... Nothing happens though. Pure silence except twittering of morning birds. When he opens his eyes, Akashi is looking at him with a profound interest in his asymmetric orbs of crimson and gold, he does not even try to hide this peculiar focus,

“Yes?”

“I was thinking that you are quite interesting Nijimura-san.”

Nijimura responds with an intentionally sarcastic tone,

“Really, now?”

“Really.” Akashi replies and gives a tiny smile and it is not threatening at all, it is not sharp and cutting, it is not full of contempt; on the contrary it signals amusement which at first perplexes Nijimura more than bringing him relief and happiness. He is unable to give a proper reaction, so Akashi continues,

“I am not suicidal nor do I perform self-harm nor do I physically and intentionally harm anybody around me.”

“Good.”

“There was a time I was not as good at keeping my demons though. But you are right, for similar reasons I have no faith in what they call psychiatry or psychology. More importantly, even if I did, it would simply be unthinkable for a person of my status to seek their help. We are not in America here, it is not trendy for you to have your own therapist and even in the US nobody of my stature would dare share the demons like mine with a therapist... In case it leaks. They leak you know, despite all that confidentiality crap.”

Again, Akashi rarely curses and this only makes it blunter and stronger when he actually does. Nijimura is always intrigued hearing him curse.

“I kind of guessed it...”

“I do not blame others for fearing me for it though. They had every reason to. They tried to help in their own ways, I am sure. As you put it, we were all children.”

“I am sure they don't blame you either... Well, may be that Takao guy.”

Akashi almost chuckles at that or rather Nijimura thinks he chuckled because his lips move and a small “huh” is heard but no actual laughter.

“By the way, you did not mention my romantic orientation but I do not regard it as an issue of my mental state in the first place.”

“You are insulting me now. I would never even think of that... It is a perfectly healthy nature.”

“I am glad you are aware of it. But your ease in uttering that tells me something.”

“What do you mean?”

“Are you so used to it now because we slept a few times or because you have ventured outside and tried it for yourself as well finally?”

“What are you exactly referring to?”

“Sexuality and love. How they are not necessarily connected in terms of causation. How it is okay to not to love, but also to enjoy the sex if needed?”

“How did you even come to that conclusion? You are scaring me.”

“Interesting, again. You are not scared of me when you should be but you are scared of me when you have no reason to be.”

“I have experience in violent tendencies and that allows me to act irrationally brave at times.”

“I am curious how you ended up not dying because of such audacity.”

“I am too, sometimes.”

“So?”

Nijimura sighs and reclines,

“I went out drinking once, after we wrapped up our project and this... This woman came on to me.”

“A student of our fine university?”

“Yes.”

“Nice, I am always fond of women going boldly and claiming their sexuality.”

“Me too..."

“Hmm... She is from History department? Petite, no more than 155 centimetres in height? Cute with a bob cut light brown hair?”

“You are freaking me out a little. I am going to ask this once and for all, are you a clairvoyant?”

Akashi smiles, his gaze wanders away a little, as if he is recalling something, Nijimura is sure this is a question that has been asked numerous times,

“And I will answer you once and for all, I am not. This especially was very simple; she was there you know.”

“There where?”

“When we went out? You remember, the first night you strayed from the right path and ended up spending the night with me? She was there at the gathering at first and she checked you out and sized you up with her eyes all that time.”

“Oh really? I never realised she was there. Wow, is she a stalker? Now this kind of creeps me out. By the way, the so-called 'right path' is overrated and boring as hell if what we did constitutes straying away from it.”

Akashi chuckles again and Nijimura realises finally all his anxiety and worries have completely faded away because the small laughter he hears is content and honest, Akashi is feeling better, he is feeling better, this is overall better.

“I would have to agree. But then I do not truly believe in right paths or wrong paths in the first place.”

“What do they call people like you? Machiavellian?”

“Depends on the context, everyone contests descriptions in those fields. Perhaps you should have been a Political Science Major?”

“God hell no, I would be bored to death. Even the bit I had to learn to be admitted to university killed me.”

“You are smart though, you grasp fast and you understand easily. You rarely forget what has captured your attention once.”

“I sure am. But mostly my proximity to you proves I am not that ignorant on that aspect I guess. I think nobody could ever become close to you in any way if they did not understand at least basics of politics.”

“Am I that horrible?”

“No, you are that complicated.”

“Is that supposed to be bad?”

“No, it is not. Especially so for a simple person like me. It can be fascinating, though also challenging.”

“I think you are underestimating yourself.”

“No need to be so polite, I must be extremely simple from where you are standing.”

It is the truth but uttering it would be impolite and Akashi, on a whim, wishes not to be impolite at that moment (and he secretly commends Nijimura on his brutal honesty regarding his own shortcomings and Akashi's own grandeur, the older male has always been such, aware of his own weakness and even if envy blossoms in him, never to let it poison his words or behaviour – it is a sign of great character, the redhead believes). So Akashi returns their subject back to its origin,

“So, you slept with her?”

“Yes.”

“Was it fun?”

“Yes.”

“But you did not love her?”

“I did not even like her... I mean she looked nice. Now that I think about it, I acted extremely superficial. I did not even take her to my apartment you know, I took her to a love hotel.”

“That is unexpected of you. But superficiality in sexuality is normal, all animals perform it as such.”

“But we are not mere animals.”

“True, but we are animals. It does not hurt if both parties are aware and consenting.”

“True... But I feel she might have had other ideas. She emailed me afterwards.”

“That is disconcerting.”

“Yes...”

Nijimura abruptly laughs then, it is a little dry, nevertheless honest, Akashi is puzzled,

“What?”

“It is funny how you take it so neutrally, anybody else would yell at me for being so shameless and shallow, overall vile. But you find it 'disconcerting' that she and I might have different expectations. And that's all.”

“And if you asked them exactly why it is vile, they probably would not be able to explain. And it is something upsetting and problematic if two people engage in an action together but regard it in completely different terms. I hope she understands. Assuming you are not thinking of pursuing a relationship with her, you could if you wanted. You are single. She is willing.”

“But I don't love her.”

Akashi smiles,

“I thought you recently told me one does not have to be in a relationship for romance solely?”

“True but I don't even know her... Why enter a relationship with a stranger? Just because she looks pretty? That seems to me shallower than having a consenting and willing one-night-stand with her. A relationship may not necessarily require romance but it requires other things. Plus...”

“Plus?”

“I realised that it is different when you have sex with somebody you know and trust versus when you have sex with somebody you don't know and thus you do not trust.”

“Hmm...”

“It is different. There is less intimacy and there are risks which you cannot help but be aware. Perhaps others are not like that... Perhaps it is just me.”

“Perhaps, but I do understand what you are saying. Especially in my case, it is always risky and troublesome. They can come to me with various intents.”

“I am sure you are able to deal with them skilfully but it must be tough. It would be tough for me. Hell I even panicked a little the first time I saw her message me and then I felt bad for panicking and having had sex with her too a bit...”

“Do you regret?”

“No, I think it was a good experience.”

“Will you do it again?”

Nijimura pauses a second and realisation dawns upon him, he can feel his blood warming and speeding its pace in his veins,

“Not with her. No. What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Did you randomly sleep with strangers in Europe?”

“I went to a club once, in Amsterdam of all places. It was uncomfortable to be honest, the man I grabbed at the end of the night treated me as though I was an exotic species. I cannot stand to that, such a turn off. I ended up only flogging him and then leaving him to himself.”

“And when you say flogging, you mean it literally?”

Akashi's tone is almost surprised,

“Obviously.”

Nijimura laughs at that because it is funny and he can imagine Akashi flogging somebody and normally it would be sexy (and he can imagine himself being flogged by Akashi and the thought is definitely very sexy), however this particular image of a poor man only to be left to his own at the end, unfulfilled... It is just extremely amusing for some reason.

“Does the thought entertain you?”

“It is just funny. Poor guy.”

“Well, he deserved it. In fact, he was the one who initially suggested flagellation, not that I am not fond of it.”

This only intensified Nijimura's chuckling and a devilish smile crept up Akashi's face in return.

“God... so, what will you do? Will you continue having such affairs?”

“I will have to do what I always do. I cannot help but crave sex, I am a sexual being. I will find proper partners for casual sex.”

“But it is risky.”

“It is, unfortunately, but as you said I am able to deal with it, skilfully.”

“But it is tiring and vexing.”

“That it is, but what are you trying to point at?”

“Myself.”

Now that was rather blunt and even though Akashi had seen that coming, he had not particularly thought it would be thrown at him so curtly.

“You cannot be serious.”

“Why not?”

“Are you gay?”

“I don't know. Never thought of it. I am probably bisexual considering I slept with a woman pretty recently too. And I had fun. And I have fun when I am with you.”

“Makes sense.”

“What are you? By the way, I never asked you, did I?”

“I am pansexual, basically I can sleep with any other consenting adult as long as I find them worthy. But I must admit my partners are most frequently men.”

“Then I am fair game?”

“Do you want to be fair game? You know I am not capable of romantic love.”

“I did not ask for you to love me nor did I say I loved you.”

“So you do not love me but you want to have sex with me?”

Because the best way to counter such raw honesty was equivalent raw honesty and this actually made Nijimura waver a little inside, he has never talked to someone like this, any other time an unruly blush would conquer his face, this time he valiantly defends himself against it and maintains his partially amused, partially wooing face calm,

“Yes.”

“Okay, but why me? I am not asking the other way around because it is obvious this is profitable for me: you are saying you do not love me and I am certain it is the truth. I would be able to tell if it was a lie. It is also doubtlessly true that it is very risky for me to sleep around with strangers but you are somebody I can trust. However, why would you want to sleep with me? Especially since you have slept with women all your life? Since you have just confirmed that fact and further affirmed that you can sleep with them even if you do not even like them and have fun doing it too?”

“For the same reason you yourself said: trust.”

“Could you elaborate?”

“Are you trying to embarrass me out of it? Because it won't work. And you must already know why, being not-clairvoyant clairvoyant.”

Akashi smiles, how Nijimura manages to amuse him so easily is a miracle in itself, really,

“Perhaps I would like to hear you confess to it so that it is a proper deal and acknowledgement?”

“Fine. I trust you and the fact that I trust you allows me to be more comfortable with you than I would be with anybody else. I am able to better ascertain what you would prefer and what you would not. I know your limits better and you know mine. I can be confident of our privacy. I like you as a person and as a friend too, so it does not bother me to wake up next to you. And frankly, you are good at it.”

“At what?”

“Now this is childish.”

“Are you so prude?”

“I would not be saying those things if I was a prude.”

“Does it feel threatening to your masculinity?”

“God, Akashi, you just won't stop until I admit it out loud right?! Yes, you are good at sex. You are damn good at it. And I don't care if you are a man or a woman because I enjoyed it. A lot.”

Akashi chuckles at that,

“That wasn't too hard.”

“You are incredibly cheeky at times and this is actually unbelievable. Do others know of this?”

“I think Tetsuya might...”

Kuroko... Nijimura remembers what he thought and swallows it, no, he cannot say it now, the time has passed for it, he could have uttered it perhaps before when they were still arguing but now they are good and they may become even better so there is no reason to pronounce it and endanger things but his silence and gaze wandering blankly at horizon already exposes the truth to Akashi without Nijimura even realising it.

“You... have realised it?”

“Realised what?”

Akashi smiles. It is small. It is a little sad. But it is not tragic or anything. It is knowing more than anything else. Nijimura blinks a few times. He wonders how Akashi recognised it. Perhaps he really is a clairvoyant.

“Maybe? I am not sure what you are referring to...”

“But you are. I am referring to Tetsuya. You realised he was the one.”

“The one...”

Nijimura ponders, it is not that he is asking actually,

“So it is my turn to spell it out? I am not timid about it actually, even if I had guarded it a secret for his own good and peace of mind.”

“You don't have to.”

“We were children.”

“I know...”

“I thought he was like me. Turns out he was not; he was capable of love, of romantic love that is. Turns out he just could not express it because he was late on puberty and had not found the right person. Turns out his natural demeanour is a little cold and he is awkward about showing his affections.”

“I see.”

“You are scowling again.”

“Am I?”

“Do I need to repeat things?”

“I am not pitying you!”

It's so forceful, an honest and strong declaration, almost a warning, it makes Akashi smile, albeit that it is small smile, the one that is a little sad, not tragic or anything, and knowing more than anything else,

“I see.”

“I am just sad that it did not work out for you I guess.”

“I am... not sad, I think. Frustrated and disappointed, definitely. Especially when I see him with Taiga.”

“They are inseparable. And obvious.”

“Aren't they? It is painful to know that I was...”

Mistaken – he cannot say it, there is no way he can say that cursed word, so he changes his wording,

“It is painful to know that he is so obviously nothing like me. He is deeply in love with Kagami. I am happy for them, in my own way I guess.”

“Do you wish to possess him?”

“Perhaps. I may be lacking romantic feelings but I was brought up to be very possessive. I am possessive over my friends and things I like. I am possessive about him. But if I wanted to actually posses him, I would possess him.”

The last phrase brings a chill to Nijimura's spine not only because of its content but certainty and he knows surely that it is the truth. If Akashi wanted, he would posses Kuroko.

“But you cannot posses people's he hearts and minds and souls, Nijimura-san. You can posses their bodies, their physical beings, their lives perhaps even. You could create the illusion that you possessed their hearts and minds and souls, the Stockholm Syndrome, coercive persuasion, indoctrination... whatever. But you can never truly ensure, you can never trust, you can never be certain; they might just wake up one day and realise the lie underneath it. It is subjective. It is abstract. It is only ever a belief and never empirical knowledge. And when it is revealed for the lie it is, you will only be left with misplaced loyalty and an incredible pain and agony. I could never inflict such on somebody I am fond of. I never wanted to.”

Though his words come almost clinical, his voice monotonous, his face expressionless, Nijimura sees a compassionate and soft gaze shining towards an empty spot on campus; there is disappointment in it but also fondness.

Is he imagining Kuroko?

Is he seeing him?

The moment feels so intimate, Nijimura is a little awkward about it; he has never felt this intimate with Akashi even when the redhead cried his name and moaned loudly in his arms as they drowned in passions of flesh. It is strange. But it is beautiful. When his hand reaches to the soft cheek and his thumb caresses the alabaster skin now tanned to a pretty darker tone by the many months of unwavering sunlight, Akashi closes his eyes, only perhaps for one third of a second... Nijimura barely sees it and it is almost looks like a blink but it is not, because when Akashi turns his face back to him the previous gaze in his eyes has disappeared already and his stoic face has adorned a tiny, cheeky, and amused smile.

“It is a deal.”

“Are you sure?”

“Why? Did you think reminiscing about Tetsuya would change my current situation and needs or wants?”

“Well no... But...”

“Unless you changed your mind? I would never coerce you into it.”

“I know and I was the one who suggested it. I am all in.”

“All in...” Akashi repeats and snickers, he backs out a little and Nijimura's hand falls down awkwardly, Akashi stands up, his small smile unperturbed,

“Then, Nijimura-san, please send an email with the list of your favourite kinks and absolute turn-offs. This would be helpful in that it would be an open confession and acceptance of our respective limits. I will be in your care. Thanks in advance.”

Nijimura is bewildered at the tone and statement, especially after such an intimate and sentimental moment but before he can collect himself to form a coherent sentence, Akashi has already turned his back and started to walk away...

Akashi Seijūrō is a riddle, wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma.

(but perhaps there is a key?)

Chapter Text

The next days and weeks are a whirlwind of textbooks and notes and summaries and reports because exams come with all their might and Nijimura realises how unready he is. They never talk with Akashi after their rather awkward deal. Well, he has sent the list Akashi wanted and honestly it took all his might to even prepare it and even more courage to simply press “send”. It is not that he is ashamed or embarrassed but it is completely uncharted territory for him; he has always been blunt but has known when to keep his mouth shut and even if his previous romantic and sexual endeavours have been diverse if modest, he could not help being a little enthusiastic at the great potential that Akashi could provide and add a lot of stuff he has always wondered but never truly suggested a partner before.

Akashi replied his email a few hours after it was sent with a simple, “I've read and acknowledge these. Let me know if you would require me to prepare such a list as well.”

Nijimura is frustrated at the business-like tone of the email and instead of asking for a reciprocal list (and it would have been really helpful in the future after all) he simply responded: “It's cool.”

It was stupid.

He has no time to worry about the impacts of past stupidity for his possible future sex life though, because exams hit him hard. He should have studied more, he spends his days and nights with his eyes glued to textbooks and notes and continuously messaging with his senpais from the lab (and thanks God that they are so helpful in answering his questions for the second year's material) but it is simply not enough.

When all exams pass and he can finally breath easy, he visits home. He has not visited them since the beginning of finals and with the end of the term, before classes start again in October, it is the perfect change. He has been feeling a little alienated from his siblings and especially mother, who seemed to be always busy working, understandably. They live in Kanagawa now so it is just close enough to visit even for a few days and far enough to not be able to visit more frequently during the week.

It is while he is with his family that he receives a message from Akashi Seijūrō, it is simple and elegant,

“I wish you congratulations on passing all your examinations. I hope you are feeling better now and have been able to relieve your stress from the examination period. If you are available, I will be so this Monday. I wish you and your family a delightful time together.”

Nobody who comes across such a message written in such a polite tone would ever even imagine it is a booty call. And he does not even want to wonder how and why Akashi knows that he passed all his exams, because the marks have not yet been released for all of them, and that he is with his family, because nobody outside his professor at the lab knows it.

This does not creep out Nijimura though, he has seen Akashi be the 'all seeing eye' far too many times in the past and recent times to be baffled, instead it amuses him, he finds himself snorting at the pretentiousness of it all.

He confirms to Akashi that he will indeed be available on Monday and finds himself sent a full address.

“I thought you would perhaps prefer it to take place in my house this time. It would be curt to forever inconvenience your dwelling.”

Nijimura reads this message while he is still on the train and snickers. He is not sure whether it is cute or weird or perhaps it is both.

“Is it going to be awkward?” is the question that busies his mind on his way to Akashi's house. He took a shower and wore some of his more decent clothes though he thinks Akashi probably does not particularly care. In previous instances of their sexual activities it had always been so salacious and immediate, without much pondering that they never had any moment to pause and be awkward about it. It is not really like that when he has already sent out a list that involved some pretty crazy stuff to Akashi. When he knows Akashi is waiting him, for sex.

What surprises him the most is how little he cares about the possible moral ramifications of it. Nor does he even doubt the satisfaction he will acquire at the end. He had never thought of holding a man before Akashi or being held by a man before Akashi – but now the idea is not just acceptable but attractive. He finds that he really does not mind. He really must be bisexual. Or perhaps he is pansexual like Akashi said he was? What is the exact difference? He should study about these kinds of things a little perhaps, now that he knows the world is not as simple as he once thought.

When Akashi first opens the door, Nijimura is taken by surprise – he had expected many things but apparently he had not expected one thing that was very Akashi Seijūrō:

Akashi is wearing a black yukata with carmine obi that accentuates the colour of his hair and eyes, there is a serene allure in his gaze – it is not threatening, it is not explicitly inviting, but it is welcoming, it is calming...

“I was having tea,” he says, “would you like to have some as well?”

Nijimura nods politely and enters the apartment. It is large. Very large. Probably two, no three instances of his whole apartment could fit in what seems to be Akashi's main room with an attached semi-open kitchen. It is also extremely simple; a careful blend of the modern with the traditional. It is lavish in size but modest in essence. It feels a little like Akashi. No, it feels very much like Akashi.

Except...

He focuses his eyes on the small maneki-neko on the beautifully designed wooden table. It is not a tacky one like those sold in dollar stores. It is gracefully crafted, however, it still is a maneki-neko; it is white and has red ears, bright golden plates... It is... nothing like rest of this house. It is nothing like Akashi.

“Do you like it?”

“Oh, thanks...” Nijimura realises Akashi setting the table with tea and pale coloured daifukus. Even the wares he is using seem sublime but simple.

“Um... it looks good? It is very cute actually. Not tacky either.”

“Thanks. I am quite fond of it. Unfortunately I could not give it to you, it is a gift. But if there is anything else you like, feel free.”

Nijimura blinks a few times but Akashi has uttered the words without even looking at him, busy setting the table at first and now sipping from his tea. A second later his bewilderment (and accumulated awkwardness till then) simply combusts into laughter,

“Is something amusing to you?”

“It is just... God Akashi... Do you know just how pretentious it is to say someone something like that?”

“Probably very. I was sincere though.”

“I know and you were not trying to be arrogant either. Your natural vanity does not eclipse your natural modesty. Well... your whole house is modest.”

“You think so? Most would think it is excessive.”

“Well, it is huge but there is not much furniture or luxurious items. Or rather, no extravagance? I am sure this tea cup is very valuable for example, but it does not even give off an aura of excess at all.”

“It is invaluable actually, in the sense that it is part of a set from an unfortunately recently deceased master's hands... Auction houses would do anything to get a hold of it.”

This almost makes Nijimura drop the cup he is holding in his hands – he was taking a sip when Akashi commented. Somehow, Akashi is not even upset at the very real accident that was just avoided, he smiles contentedly, seemingly much amused,

“It does not mean you have to panic. It is sublime and thus I have it, but it is just a tea cup.”

Nijimura cannot help contain a smile that blossoms on his face in response to the honesty he has just been dealt with. Any other person might have taken it as yet another haughty statement, but he knows there is not even a single bit of conceit in Akashi's words.

Truth is Akashi had never carried arrogance. Hubris, sure. Pride, certainly. But arrogance is something that profoundly requires self-ignorance and delusion to exaggerate oneself beyond their capability and actuality, which Akashi absolutely does not hold and instead his actions and words that may seem grandiose to most stem from the very fact that the redhead's potential is enormous. There was however a time (and there are still glimpses of it) when Akashi lost his composure and sense of reality and normality against his own grand capacity. His hubris and pride did not blind him but burdened him and to bear them he exposed them for all to see.

At least that's how Nijimura sees it.

It was a mistake, Akashi had learnt. Nijimura can estimate as much. But as he studies every little gesture of Akashi now, he thinks that he does not mind. He has never minded, the audacity of the redhead or the imposing dignity. Not even in the past.

How do they move from sitting at the table making small talk about their respective university lives and Nijimura's sibling worries and sipping tea to... Akashi's comfortable and stylish sofa where they make out like a pair of lovers who have not seen each other for so long that their heightened craving only unleashes an insatiable sensuality... Only that they are not lovers at all and even if they had not seen each other for long, neither had felt any real longing for the other.

How do they move from that point to Akashi's bedroom? His bed is large for both of them and there is a forcefulness in their movements that so bizarrely blends with soft caresses here and there and moments of unfathomable tenderness now and then... It is a whirlwind of aphrodisia, of fervour, of greed, and of urgency... The brunette has no idea how it has all escalated so smoothly, so quickly.

When Nijimura wakes, he finds Akashi carefully tucked in near him and they are so close to each other but not touching. He regards the redhead for a few minutes, how graceful he looks as he sleeps, his delicate features settled in a beautiful peace, his bare chest moves up and down slowly at every breath and even his inhales and exhales sound melodious.

Why would such a person even care to take Nijimura to bed? He could have anybody he wanted. As he said once, he could possess anybody he wanted. Why Nijimura?

The answer is simple, “trust”. The problem is Nijimura is a little unsure of that answer. Is it really so important? For him, surely, he has felt it and confirmed it once again that night. But for Akashi? For a king who has only ever relied on himself in the worst case and have managed to rise victorious from every predicament? Akashi is a creature of doubt in essence, how could he revel or value trust? If anything, he should undermine it, belittle it.

His mind is busy pondering about this conundrum when he realises the aftermath of last night's events that Akashi had not bothered to clean up before falling asleep, which is not that surprising though he would not be surprised otherwise either, and it is only once his gaze hovers over the sticky skin he realises...

Sex is a dialogue.

It requires more than one person to be an intercourse and go beyond simple self-satisfaction by oneself.

Trust is even a stronger operative in bed than on court; Akashi could trust only in himself on the court, it is not enough in the bed because he will be taking someone in or he will be giving himself to someone. Regardless of the positions or the roles or the exact actions involved, trust becomes very valuable in intimacy. It is indispensably important because of the very nature of the situation.

Perhaps it is really just that. Solely that. Trust is what connects them together and brings them to this bed. He does not mind it. His hand, calloused from years of karate and delinquency and basketball reach out for Akashi's smooth ivory skin, under his touch fascinatingly dark and red and thick eyelashes tremble, his lips part with perhaps only a millimetre. He opens his eyes and Nijimura releases a breath he did not know he was holding,

“Hello.”

“Hello.”

“What time is it?”

“Not sure but it must be very early morning... It is the blue hour.”

“Hmm... I like the blue hour.”

Nijimura caresses the curve of his shoulder up to his neck – his hand pauses for a mere second at one particular point where his calm pulse is almost felt through the skin,

“It looks pretty usually...”

“Yes, it is aesthetically very pleasing. Are you sleepy at all?”

“No, I don't think I'll be able to sleep.”

“I'll probably sleep about ten more minutes. You can take a shower if you'd like.”

“Sure...” as the last syllable falls out of his lips, his hand cups Akashi's cheek, who does not seem to mind – he does not lean into the touch nor does he shy away from it, which strangely charms Nijimura. It is simply so... Akashi.

He unwraps himself from the bedsheets and goes to bathroom which is again large but simple. He is out in about ten minutes and sees Akashi, already dressed in his yukata, leaning on the counter of the open kitchen and staring into the horizon from the large windows of his living room – the sky is a lovely baby blue and horizon is smouldering in a pastel pink.

“It is indeed beautiful.”

“Yes, it looks especially so from my house.”

“Is there anything to eat?”

“I am afraid nothing other than daifuku. I do not cook so I rarely have anything in my fridge.”

This upsets Nijimura somehow,

“Now that is simply unacceptable.”

Akashi is entertained with that reaction somehow, he turns his face and gives a small smile of satisfaction,

“Perhaps. We could have breakfast outside if you would like? There is a lovely French patisserie that also serves delightful breakfasts in the morning.”

“You are joking.”

“No, and I should be out of shower in about fifteen minutes. Decide till then because I am pretty hungry as well and they open very early, so we are in the luck.”

When Akashi is out of the shower and walks into his living room, clad in pure white bathrobes, he finds Nijimura sitting on one of the cushions near the table and gazing into the last minutes of sunrise.

The sky is a blazing fusion of all kinds of reds and oranges and yellows... He smiles, for it is absolutely fiery yet calm.

The next time is only a few days after and they do it at Nijimura's apartment. Because they start relatively early then finish relatively early, it is 8 pm and neither is sleepy and though it has been fun, it has not been that exhaustive. After some moments spent lying on the bed doing nothing and saying nothing, Akashi gets up for a glass of water. It is then the punching bag that is hung haphazardly at one corner of the room catches his attention and he wanders over, the leather is cool unlike the warm and humid air inside the room. He throws a punch instinctively and hears Nijimura snort.

“What is funny?”

“That is not a proper boxing punch.”

“Because I have never boxed. However, I am very confident in my punches.”

“I am sure you are and I am sure they are good but yeah, technique is different.”

Nijimura's movements are lethargic as he moves to the spot near Akashi and carefully positions Akashi's arms and corrects his stance, he stands right behind,

“Like this and then move your arm straight and at the same time turn your torso anticlockwise and ensure to shift all your weight to your leading foot from your rear one...”

Akashi tries once at a slow pace and then another faster and a third that is at an acceptable speed for an actual punch.

“Wow that was actually really good. It had taken me some time to fluidly execute at all... But you catch these kind of stuff pretty easily, don't you?”

The redhead turns and gives a look that is clearly scolding and Nijimura could swear the lips (swollen from their earlier lascivious affairs) pouted a little for an instant. Instead of a response in words Akashi starts pounding the punching bag and after a moment Nijimura stops hovering behind him and shifts to his left side watching him go at it. After about ten minutes of this (and somehow Nijimura finds a fighting Akashi raw and stunning and mesmerising in all the right and the wrong ways), it is Nijimura who stops Akashi.

“Let me show you another one...” he says.

That is how they spend the next two hours literally punching. Not each other but the punching bag and by the end Nijimura has another idea, he dashes to one corner of the room and amidst a mess of many articles of clothing and god knows what else, he fishes out a focus mitt. Akashi has a pretty good idea of what that is used for based on several films he has seen. Nijimura wears the mitt to one hand as he hurries over, they position properly and Nijimura starts giving directives.

That is how they pass another two hours, except for the few short breaks they take to drink some water.

Nijimura finds himself oddly excited facing Akashi throwing punches in his direction. His narrowed and focused eyes, asymmetric and bewitching, shine with this particular glare, it is hot and heavy and most importantly it is predatory. It sends a message and the message is loud and clear and Nijimura can feel just how clear and loud it is in every punch that seems to be increasing in force and the side of his body receiving this fierce aggression is already aching.

He cannot get enough of it though. It has been such a long time since he last saw such enticing display of sheer power, defiant ferocity...

He stops Akashi and takes off the focus mitt then positions himself against Akashi,

“You want to spar?” the redhead asks in partial suspicion and surprise,

“Not really, I am sure you already pack a good punch and your physique is astounding, still, I just showed you the techniques, so it wouldn't be fair. Plus, I am not interested in punching each other's faces out without proper gear on us... Just come at me and I'll avoid.”

“You sure you will be able to avoid?”

“Well please try not to ensure that I won't be able to avoid?”

Akashi giggles, it is too low and seducing than what a giggle should ever sound like...

It is not easy to avoid punches thrown by Akashi Seijūrō even if the redhead is not deliberately trying to ensure they fall on their targets and even if he has just learnt how to throw punches in this specific set of techniques. Nijimura manages it but the fact that he manages it hardly is what makes it exhilarating; adrenaline floods his body, sweat drops cover every path of his skin, his mouth becomes dry as he rapidly dehydrates... And Akashi looks at him with those eyes that so firmly declare him as a prey.

His prey.

It is ravenous and urgent.

When they finally stop both are breathing extremely hard and Nijimura realises how every muscle on the perfect body of Akashi Seijūrō in front of him is tense and his alabaster skin covered with sweat, the red strands of his hair messy and wet... He breaths hard.

There is something peculiarly similarly enticing about sex and fighting, the brunette muses silently in his mind.

“That was good...” is what he says out loud.

“It was,” Akashi agrees and continues, “and very satisfying for stress release. I usually prefer kendo but since I've moved it has been inconvenient. It might be a good idea to buy some gear like this for my apartment.”

“Oh it is great for relieving stress. I didn't know you practised kendo?”

“Kendo, iaido, kyudo, and judo are traditionally mastered in my household.”

“Wait, so you have been trained in all?”

“Yes.”

“Why did you choose basketball for club activities then?”

Akashi smiles and it is the kind of small smile you would give before you share an important secret with an important dear one, it intrigues Nijimura but what he hears is simple,

“Because it is not a sport traditionally mastered in my household and it requires both the best of the mind and body.”

Nijimura understands and for some reason feels inclined to just lean in and ruffle Akashi's wet strands of hair, and he does just that,

“What was that for?” Akashi asks, seemingly irritated,

“Nothing, I just felt like it.”

“You are weird.”

“You are the weird one. Look at your hands... They are so delicate. And you were packing punches like that. Nobody would believe it if they saw it. I am sure you are marvellous at every sport you ever try. It is just ridiculous.”

“It would be an insulting lie if I denied it, I am indeed marvellous at every sport I ever try. This was particularly enjoyable, I must admit, I've always been fond of display of bare force. And a deceiving looks is a great advantage, the most tenacious species end up being the ones you least expect and seemingly the 'great' beasts become extinct so easily.”

“Hmm... True it is an advantage. I have a friend I met in the US and he is a true beauty, he has delicate hands too, well bigger than yours, still they look like those of a model than a fighter but he can knock out an adult man with a single punch.”

“He must be a troublesome fighter.”

“He is but that's what makes it even more exciting to watch him fight. He does not do these kind of things any more though. Well, I don't do much either but... Maybe I'll just train you so it will be entertaining for me?”

Nijimura reaches with his arm again to ruffle Akashi's hair...

Then in the blink of an eye finds himself on the floor on his back – that hurt.

That definitely hurt a lot.

Akashi looms over his body, leaning in from his standing position, his upper body dipping down and his face hovering above Nijimura's, his voice is hauntingly proud and seductively aggressive,

“I do not mind learning a new technique or sport, but you should not utter such insulting words... I do not entertain people, people entertain me.”

Perhaps somebody else would be afraid at the ferocious stare boring down on their face and chest. Perhaps somebody else would be intimidated by the tone of voice that was threatening in itself beyond the content of what was said. And honestly, that somebody else would have every right to be so because that would be the rational reaction. Nijimura's reaction is not the rational one at all.

He chuckles.

“That was perfect. Fine, young master. I will entertain you by showing you new techniques. By the way, you cannot just perform ippon seoi nage while boxing with people. Rules don't work that way.”

“There are no rules in real life fights though, are there? Any method is valid.”

“Sure and when will you exactly ever be involved in a real fight? Don't you people have bodyguards for such things?”

“True. But all in all it is much more likely for me to be involved in a real physical altercation than a regulated boxing match. I could be kidnapped, or worse...”

There are moments that Nijimura forgets about how complicated Akashi's life could be and there will be these little things Akashi will do or say and he will do or say them in the most ordinary voice, as though they are banal occurrences for all... They are not. This is one of those moments and realising it Nijimura sighs,

“You would totally kick their ass if they ever tried something like that.”

He would. It is the truth but there is a part of that statement that is more about wishing than stating that fact. Akashi realises this and smiles,

“Yes. I would.”

Nijimura raises his hand then, as if asking for a hand to be lifted up but Akashi only slowly leans his face to the right,

“You will only pull me down on you, won't you? If I give you a hand.”

Nijimura replies matter-of-factly,

“Yes, I will.”

Akashi snickers and takes the hand anyway to be pulled down.

“Does it... bother you sometimes? To be so aware of what is going on around you and what will happen next minute or month?”

“I've ever only been like this so I do not know how else to be... Thus I am not particularly bothered. When I was younger, I was bothered by other people's obliviousness to their present and future though... It disillusioned me as a child. Alas, I am used to it now.”

“So you don't get frustrated with them?”

“In general, no, but it does require a lot of mental power. It is a good thing I possess it.”

Nijimura chuckles as he wraps his arms around the body that is still warm and humid with sweat, they are in their underpants and the clock on the wall shows 1 am. He starts kissing and licking the soft skin under Akashi's chin, it is slow and languid, more calming than titillating...

Things escalate though. They escalate fast too. This is something Nijimura has realised: things escalate so fast whenever he is with Akashi. Not just things of sexual nature but others too – from conversations to touches, they can accelerate at magnitudes that they have never with anybody else. He wonders, if it is the same for Akashi too, it may be so, may be not... More importantly, he knows, it has not been like this with Akashi before.

Oh, how different they are now, than they once were – he realises again, not only because they are sprawled on the floor, naked and needy, together now.

Things escalate fast with Akashi and Nijimura realises, he is more needy and demanding with Akashi than he has ever been with anybody else. The redhead, on his side, seems to be too generous; he rarely ever denies Nijimura and it is spoiling, he has to admit.

So that night, Akashi is again generous, he only comments passingly when they break a kiss to breath,

“I have to attend an exhibition at an art gallery at noon tomorrow.”

They do not speak at all again sans the moans and whimpers.

When Nijimura wakes up in the morning, he finds every part of his body aching in dullness. Sleeping on the floor was a bad idea, obviously. He has no energy to even move a finger but the moment his eyes realise the time thanks to the clock on the opposite wall, he is quick to jump on his feet even though it comes with a wincing pain of his stiff muscles.

It is 11 am. Shit.

Though perhaps it is not that bad because he realises not only is Akashi nowhere to be found in the small room, he does not answer to calling of his name either. Is he gone?

Yes, he is gone – confirms the little note that Nijimura finds on his fridge.

“I have to leave early due to several errands I need to take care of in the morning. I helped myself to some toast, assuming you would not mind. I wish you a delightful day.”

'Helped himself to some toast'?

Nijimura starts laughing and he is not sure what is the exact reason: is it Akashi's politesse that is always highlighted with honest hubris? Is it the fact that Akashi, despite his sublime lifestyle, does not mind having some meagre toasts as breakfast? Is it the fact that Akashi actually mentions it alongside his reasoning as though he has committed some kind of felony?

Nijimura laughs alone leaning to his kitchen counter in a cool autumn morning and everything in life seems fine and nice.

Chapter Text

With the start of the new school term their meetings fall into a certain rhythm: it is not a routine per se, they don't have any specific days they see each other, but they will see each other at least twice a week, oft-times more than that. They sometimes meet outside but they will always end up at the home of one or the other, very early on it is realised and decided that this is the most comfortable and convenient rather than some love hotel. They often have a meal together after or before or both and if they are at Akashi's place they usually order in and occasionally they will go out to a restaurant. If they are at Nijimura's place though, almost always Nijimura cooks something. Often simple meals but Akashi finds himself quite fond of them, the brunette is a decent cook and while his supplies are not of the best quality they are usually of sufficient grade. Most importantly, Akashi understands how specially delightful it is when one shares food or cooks meals for another – he has always understood that cooking and eating are social activities and have a lot to do with how one expresses their affection and care for others. Unfortunately, he has never really been in the receiving end of this particular kind of expression of affection and care, nor has he ever been in a situation where he could be the one providing it, thus it is a new mode of communication, a fresh offering for Akashi and he lets himself to secretly savour it. Nijimura on the other hand has missed cooking for someone in the last year he spent away from his family; he had grown so used to cooking the meal at least half the time back at home for his siblings, it had been a little sad to cook only for himself during his first year in university. It is also interesting for him to watch Akashi devour the things he prepares and comment on his prowess at the matter, because Nijimura is sure that the kinds of meals Akashi usually have are much superior to his measly skills and mediocre supplies.

Something unexpected for Akashi (which is a miracle in itself and solely due to Nijimura's incalculable impulsiveness) happens near the end of month of October though. After some rough play, they are both exhausted and hungry for food and like always Nijimura opens Akashi's fridge to find nothing inside.

“This is crazy. Why do you have absolutely nothing in your fridge? All the time. Don't you ever do grocery shopping?”

“As I already told you in the many times you posed this exact question: no, I don't.”

“Why do you have a fridge then?”

“To keep the drinks cold, have some ice, and ensure the freshness of the cakes and fruits and such kinds of foods or meals I may bring home. Isn't it obvious?”

“No, it is not. It is just stupid. You have this huge fridge and you are filthy rich and you have nothing to eat in your fridge.”

“It is precisely because I am 'filthy rich' that I can have my fridge completely empty. I am hungry too, we can go out and eat... Or order in. There is a lovely pizzeria I've heard nice things about.”

“No. Nope. Not this time, we are going to get you some groceries.”

“And then?”

“We will cook and eat them, genius.”

Akashi scowls – probably not at the offer of going to grocery shopping and cooking but the wording Nijimura used and probably not because being called a “genius” hurts him, because it is a fact that he is a genius; he is simply offended that Nijimura dares to utter it in a sarcastic tone. He relents regardless,

“Let me put on some clothes.”

Only when they are outside on their way to a grocery store situated two blocks away, Nijimura realises it is the first time he is seeing Akashi in sweatpants,

“I think I never saw you in sweatpants before... Well, not counting middle school.”

“I prefer wearing a yukata at home and what they call 'smart casual' outside, if I'm not required to wear formal clothing, of course. But I thought this would be a more fitting attire for grocery shopping.”

Nijimura is puzzled,

“What do you mean? You specifically chose sweatpants?”

“Yes, because it is the proper thing to wear to grocery shopping?” Akashi says deadpan and serious and Nijimura is only more confused.

His confusion rises to new levels once they are in the grocery store. Akashi seems to be interestedly observing people around him as well as boring holes with his pointed stare in the shelves.

“Is there anything particular you'd like to eat? Other than a five star pizzeria's pizzas?”

Akashi chuckles,

“Anything is fine.”

“How about curry?”

“It has been a long time since I had it. I wouldn't mind.”

So curry it is, with a side dish of rice, Nijimura thinks and starts quickly gathering any and all ingredients, luckily, even though he does not even have cooking oil at his home, Akashi does have excellent cookware and the rice cooker with the most number of options and buttons Nijimura has ever seen.

Akashi's concentrated stare continues though and he questions what could be wrong, after a point, he has had enough of it, scowl prominent on his face he stops abruptly in between aisles,

“Okay. What is it? You want to eat something else? You're looking for something specific?”

Akashi turns with an innocent look,

“Pardon my intense observations, I simply find it interesting.”

“What do you find interesting exactly?”

“Grocery store and shopping like this.”

“Why?”

“As mundane as it is, it is not something I am used to, after all. I have not been in a grocery store since the first year of high school.”

Nijimura almost drops the plastic shopping basket he is holding,

“You are kidding right?”

“It is understandable that you find it odd, but I am serious.”

“Why?”

“You know why: I never do grocery shopping. Why would I come to a grocery store then? It is not necessarily a place of entertainment.”

“Okay... but, really? Never? Since like the first year of high school?”

Akashi nods and adds,

“The only reason I visited one in my first year of high school was because one of my basketball teammates was as shocked as you are now at the fact that I had ever visited a grocery store only once as a child, out of curiosity. So he dragged me to the nearest grocery store. It was awkward to be honest, a very voyeuristic experience.”

“So it still feels awkward?”

“Oh, not necessarily now, because we are shopping for groceries, aren't we? At the time we were only... looking and watching and not actually doing any shopping, so it was bizarre.”

“I see. Well, I am glad you just had another normal life experience. But I don't get this, you always have so many kinds of tea and coffee at your place? Where do you get them if you don't do grocery shopping?”

“They are all special brands, half are gifts, the other half I buy either from specialised stores or online. Most often my housekeeper stocks them.”

“What about drinks and fruits you have? Pastry?”

“It is easier to buy the first from convenience stores or specialised shops, the second my housekeeper stocks as well if I feel like it, and pastry,” Akashi pauses for a second to add emphasis and also turns his voice a notch lower to give it more gravity, “should be bought from a patisserie, not from a grocery store. It would be a disgrace otherwise, especially if one has the financial capacity to do so.”

Nijimura is a little surprised at first but realises that perhaps he should not have been surprised. He eventually snickers and decides to buy some fruits and ice cream on top of what they need for the curry and also some more rice and cooking oil because, hey, one can always use that kind of stuff. It is not like they will expire in a few days or weeks.

They are both very hungry and honestly it would have been easier if they just went out to eat or ordered something, but neither complains; Akashi thanks Nijimura sincerely for both the experience and the meal – “it was very delicious”, he says and Nijimura is certain it was not, objectively speaking based on Akashi's standards that is, but he is also certain that Akashi was completely honest and truthful in his remark.

They do not have sex later that day but lazily eat ice cream as they play shogi.

It becomes a thing afterwards. Those times when they meet at Akashi's apartment, if he has time, Nijimura will hit the grocery store before coming over and soon he starts finding things he did not buy in Akashi's fridge as well, from fruits to ice cream. The side effect of these is that now they both know each other's tastes very well; no ice cream with those strange colours and flavours ever make it to Akashi's (or Nijimura's) fridge but matcha ice is forever present. Nijimura also learns just how well of a cook Akashi could be if he only tried, it is not much of a surprise, he doubts there is anything the redhead could not manage to perfect, still it is a little irritating to watch him chop vegetables so skilfully like a seasoned chef – when he first started cooking, it took considerable time for Nijimura to master using a knife.

Soon, eating is not the only activity they start doing after or before sex; it starts with them watching films together at home after sex sometimes and after Nijimura dragging Akashi to Marvel's latest superhero flick upon hearing Akashi has seen none before, going to the cinema together becomes another thing for them as well, if only occasional due to their packed schedules. Akashi likes art films or documentaries which Nijimura finds tedious but will watch only to relentlessly mock afterwards, against constant glares and insults by Akashi. The brunette, on his side, can watch pretty much anything, from action films to romantic comedies, he actually does not mind; Akashi is not particularly fond of most mainstream films, but he will watch them in a fashion similar to Nijimura's, to make commentary afterwards about how inane their plots were or insipid their cinematography was. Then there are those few films that they both enjoy sincerely and no sarcastic remarks are made, instead they discuss finer points of what they liked. They discover this the very first time they watch a film together at home – it is 'the Godfather' and turns out that they are both intrigued by the complex plot and ethically grey nature of its subject matter, the motif of 'family' is also something that interests both of them quite a bit though in opposite manners. Sometimes, they do not realise that the other will equally like a film before they actually start watching it; for instance, the time Akashi makes Nijimura watch 'Children of Men' and the brunette swears by the end that yes , it was a commendable film and no , his wet eyes are definitely not due to actual tearing up. The opposite happens with when Nijimura persuades Akashi to watch 'Inception', sans the wet eyes.

They don't necessarily have sex every time they meet. Like the time Nijimura has to buy a present for his sister and having no girlfriend that could help him decipher a young woman's heart and wants, and deciding that he would much prefer to ask and go shopping with Akashi than Kise or Momoi, he asks the redhead to help him – as expected Akashi does not need to personally know any women or Nijimura's sister to know what to buy, it is a little creepy and fascinating at the same time, the brunette concludes. His sister adores the present he bought.

There are times they play basketball. It was Nijimura who first suggested it after both were invited to play a few rounds with rest of the gang from Teikō; he finds himself a little lacking and out of touch compared to the others and even though Akashi has not been playing in university's club, Nijimura is aware that the redhead still practises every day. Going at it for hours is draining but equally exhilarating and Nijimura right away sees the benefit as he wins against Aomine during their meet up that week. Yes, his victory against Aomine has a lot to do with the fact that it was a two-on-two and he was paired with Akashi. As if that was not enough, Aomine had also made the terrible mistake of belittling Akashi's height (“But it's unfair to you guys huh? You are not very tall and Akashi is so short...”) and Nijimura's skills (“Senpai I am not saying you are bad, but then everyone is bad compared to me!”); Akashi had whispered with a devilish smile after those comments,

“I will defend your honour Nijimura-san.”

This not only caused Nijimura to burst into laughter and surprise everyone because not many people had ever witnessed Nijimura laughing like that (he is famous for his scowl and furrowed eyebrows after all), but also tickled Nijimura inside a little, somehow the proud poise and sarcastic connotations were mischievously endearing to him. And he did not mind 'his honour' being defended by Akashi, not at all when it led to a devastating loss for Aomine, who by the end of the match was brought to an utterly shocked face. Kise, who was his partner for the game and extremely frustrated at the result, chided him afterwards – something about how it was his arrogance that always brought his downfall. Playing basketball soon became as much part of their relationship as sex had. Sometimes it is very brief, they play for half an hour late in the day after basketball club has finished their training at the gym. If and when they have the time, they can go at it for hours until they are both completely spent.

Then there is the time in which they don't have sex but not because they have not planned to do so. This happens late November when Nijimura rings him up; they had not talked about meeting that night but Akashi is free so he accepts and invites him over. Things escalate the moment Akashi closes the door, he does not mind this either, his libido is perfect; he has become used to Nijimura's atypical needy and demanding ways too, he revels in them because he has always been a marvellous person yet almost nobody has ever expressed such careless and unabashed want and hunger for him – and the fact that it is completely out of character for Nijimura makes it all the more delicious. After urgent kisses and impatient caresses though, there is something wrong and he had already guessed it the moment he had heard Nijimura's voice on the telephone, before the brunette even arrived. Before they started touching each other.

“I am sorry.”

Nijimura apologetically mumbles as he unwraps himself from the smaller body of Akashi; he has always felt the way he can wrap himself around the redhead completely, that difference in their frames, does not bother him and on the contrary is seductive in certain ways, though it has become obvious that he won't be able to... perform, now.

“You do not have to say sorry, it happens.”

There is not a single ounce of blame or ridicule in Akashi's voice and Nijimura is aware of it.

“It does not happen with men as young as my age though...” Nijimura sighs loudly as he hurls himself to the sofa, Akashi sits near him and regards his face – he is observing, perhaps he already knows what, Nijimura thinks.

How would it feel to be a clairvoyant anyway? To know, to be able to predict what people experienced and or will experience? To be able to read minds and states so easily? The brunette thinks he could never endure it, for it would be such a huge burden. He respects the redhead a lot for being able to bear it so sternly, even if it is not a magical power but a very real curse of genetic lottery. How ignorant must be those who regard such a thing as a blessing...

“It can. There are many reasons and factors but I am sure you would not be interested in hearing them now...”

The taller man sighs loudly again and simply slouches, covers his face with his hands... tired, he is feeling tired.

“If you would like to talk, we can talk.”

Akashi's voice is as calm as ever and Nijimura considers it for a second and is about to decline it, first in his mind and then via words to the redhead but before he can do either, Akashi whispers, his voice a notch quieter and tinged with affection which is a rare thing,

“I am your friend.”

It is not easy for Akashi Seijūrō to consider somebody a friend. Nijimura has forever known this. He has known this since the moment they had first met. He still knows it. Thus, hearing it has the figurative effect of shattering any and all restraint the brunette had to keep his inner turmoil hidden.

He smiles bitterly and spills and somehow it is not that hard to spill your heart out to Akashi despite how intimidating the redhead can be at times. At one point he unconsciously reclines towards the smaller male and instead of keeping the distance Akashi also leans in and pats his had. He does not even realise this gesture till he has finished talking; he literally spends half an hour there complaining about the possible loss of his position as an assistant researcher at the lab because of the university administration's obstinacy about a certain outdated regulatory procedure, about the worries of not being able to find a useful internship position if he is ever kicked out of the lab, about the uncertainty of his future after graduation in the current downfall of the market, about how he realised his mother had been keeping it a secret from him the actual magnitude of some of the hospital fees from the time of his father's treatments, about how his younger brother is in his rebellious phase and he is terribly frightened that the younger will follow the infamous example of the older and become a delinquent and he is not sure if his mother can handle it now, when she is under so much stress already... as Akashi silently combs his hair and pats his head gently.

He feels better at the end even if he suddenly finds himself a little timid under the tenderness of the kind touch; if he knew that Akashi has ever touched so gently to another only once before in his life, then he would have been wildly blushing.

They do not have sex that night but they eat together. They sleep together. They wake up together. They would have had breakfast together as well if Akashi did not have to rush to a meeting, when Nijimura is awkward and apologising in a small voice as he purposefully looks somewhere else than Akashi's direction, his signature scowl strongly settled on his face, the redhead only smiles genially and comments,

“We are friends, it is all right. I understand. Help yourself before you leave, breakfast is important and I have some fruits and yoghurt in the fridge. I have some high quality rice too, you may want to take some home.”

Akashi leaves, Nijimura sleeps in for another hour, and only after all those, when he wakes up and opens the fridge and sees the exact fruits that only he and Akashi likes, he realises it.

He recalls Akashi's words in his mind, he plays them again and again, and he wonders; is this really what a friendship is like?

Chapter Text

The moment he slept with Akashi, he knew.

He knew that they had transgressed the boundaries of what conventionally constituted friendship. But that – that was the problem: Nijimura is mature enough to know that conventions are about what most people find convenient and true for themselves. He is also mature enough to know that what most people find convenient and true for themselves does not mean that it will be so for everyone. There will be individuals who find the opposite things convenient and true. At the end of the day, it is all subjective; painfully subjective.

So what makes a friendship, 'friendship'? What are its boundaries? When do you exactly become friends and when do you fall out of it or it becomes something different, for better or worse?

He is certain beyond any doubt that what he has become with Akashi is for the better. Their relationship has improved and they also seem to both be happier and more satisfied; now, he knows for a fact this is true for himself and for Akashi, it is his perception that this holds true, though he has never asked directly. Albeit, in any case, considering Akashi's personality, he would have put an end to it if he found it problematic or debilitating in any aspect.

The most troublesome part is, however, the possible reasons why he might be asking these questions now . He has forever hated the whole 'questioning the questions' approach – he can still perfectly remember how he almost bombed his first course on Philosophy of Science and Scientific Method; so its presence in his private life is even more vexing, simply put: intolerable. He has nobody else to talk about the matter either, which only makes things worse. Once or twice he came so close to spilling it to Himuro when they were chatting over the phone, but he is sure that revealing the whole story to Himuro would only cause the said beauty to hop onto the first flight to Tokyo and come over to kick his ass. Nor is this the kind of matter he could discuss with his family; his mother would probably faint. She is not a bigoted person but he guesses that the news of his dear dutiful son sleeping with a male kouhai is the kind of stress that she cannot endure right now, not even mentioning the whole part of how the aforesaid dear dutiful son is not even sure about how to define the aforementioned relationship.

But then again: How do you define a relationship?

It all boils down to that. What makes love love? What makes love, romantic kind of love? What makes friendship, friendship? What makes a relationship something more than friendship? Or less than friendship?

The same questions and their numerous offspring revolve around his mind like an unholy nebula of chaos, a maleficent omen of an impending apocalypse...

He wonders, is it a limitation of vocabulary that is the origin of the issue here?

Perhaps, that is the case. Perhaps, not.

Truth is, he has never been good at this; such a labyrinthine endeavour of linguistics, sociology, and psychology, with a dash of his very own heart and soul and emotions... He is simply lost within this tempest of his own dubiety.

He could ask this – all these series of warring questions – to Akashi and the redhead would be able to come up with answers much more sophisticated and plausible than Nijimura's and they would hold the sufficient certainty to assure himself greatly... There is absolutely no reason not to share this matter with Akashi in the first place; for if anything since their argument after revelations about Akashi's high school years, their communication has been much improved. It has actually been the most honest relationship Nijimura ever had in his life and he suspects the same holds true for the redhead as well.

So why?

Why doesn't he just pick up the phone and ask Akashi?

The answer to that is quite problematic. To the degree that this might be the question he wants to avoid the most, for in its answer lies a frightening possibility. There is a chance that this emerging interest in questioning the status of their relationship, this sudden desire to define their bonding, these interrogations about friendship and love... They might mean that he is not satisfied recognising what they have as 'friendship' alone any longer and considering he has been fine with it at the beginning, this means he has changed.

What has changed? How? He has absolutely no idea. But he is sure something has changed.

He has started wondering more about Akashi's private life. Curiosities that never existed before start to surface at the oddest times.

Does he still take others to bed?

What is he doing right now?

How many people has he been with in the past?

How does he look when he cries? Does he even cry at all?

...

Whenever he is walking in the campus his eyes wander around and it is almost as if he is unconsciously searching for Akashi, the times he actually locates the redhead by chance, he feels content and cheerful. There is a special kind of gratification he receives from seeing Akashi smile these days, even more so if he is the cause of said smile. Whenever Akashi is around, it is hard for anybody or anything else to keep his interest, his eyes travel to him almost out of their own will, like moths to the flame. And he has to admit, he has found himself taking a roundabout route within the campus as he comes and goes to the school and coincidentally that route passes right in front of the main building of Faculty of Law.

Is this love?

He is truly afraid to ask that question because that question could change everything and break what little piece of peace and contentment they had achieved to create together. Hence, he does not ask it, instead stubbornly focuses on cultural relativity of the conceptions of human relations, which is not an inaccurate series of inquiry anyway, and takes shelter in the ambiguity of his own understanding of his feelings.

One day near the end of November, Akashi actually declines Nijimura's invitation. This is something rare because they had gotten so used to each other's programs and often have information of their respective schedules in advance, they are aware when the other is busy and not to bother. There is of course always the possibility that Akashi is available but does not want to see him. This specifically bothers Nijimura and for a second he almost says “we don't have to have sex” and they do not have to and there have been many times they did not, but he realises that the statement itself had never been made explicit in those occasions, so somehow it feels as if saying it now would be meaningful in different ways.

In ways Nijimura does not want it to mean. So he swallows the statement.

A seed of doubt germinates inside him, “could he be bored?” He prefers to ignore the thought. It is futile to worry and it is irrational.

He receives a call from Akashi a few days later on Sunday morning,

“Are you available?” Akashi asks in a voice so tired... Nijimura has never heard him as such even after hours spent in each others' flesh or in the hottest and toughest days of Summer Training Camps of Teikō.

“Sure,” is what he responds but realises somewhere in his chest it says, “For you, sure, always” and this troubles him even if it has not been verbally pronounced. But he calms himself down, he cares for Akashi deeply, he can accept and admit to that much and the ambiguous nature of their relationship allows that, doesn't it?

When they meet at Akashi's apartment, the redhead is wanton and urgent; they don't even move to the sofa for the first round, it happens right at the door and Nijimura cannot help but worry what the neighbours will think because, sure, the door is closed securely but the noises must be audible even from outside and the noises they make are quite telling. Akashi is not satisfied though, not at all, and it seems that it won't be an easy task to satisfy the redhead that day...

Indeed it is not, it takes a total of three rounds and various intermittent foreplay in between to finally appease the little god.

(There are times when Nijimura calls him “a little god” – it is both affectionate and sarcastic and Akashi has once told that he does not mind being called a “god”, for he is utterly irreligious and as close to divine as a human could be, but he minds the deliberate notation of “little”.)

Nijimura asks between laboured breaths,

“Did something happen?”

Akashi does not reply and instead removes himself from the bed. At one corner of Akashi's bedroom there is a medium sized carry-on baggage which the redhead uses for all his travels, he moves towards and opens it and Nijimura realises it is full; Akashi must have just returned from somewhere. It explains why he might have rejected Nijimura's offer to meet Friday and this unleashes a gentle relief over the brunette, further sweetening his senses already soaked in the afterglow of ecstasy he just savoured...

Akashi returns with a box and hands it to Nijimura, who curiously opens it to find a maneki-neko inside. To be specific, an exact replica of the maneki-neko Akashi has in his own living room.

“What... is this?”

“It is a maneki-neko.”

“I know what it is. I mean, why are you showing it to me?”

“It is a gift.”

“Oh, you are giving it to me as a gift?”

“Yes. You said once that you liked the one I have in my living room. You remember? I told you I could not give it to you because it was a gift. Hence, I bought an exact copy.”

Nijimura cannot help but smile, he had thought something terrible had happened for a moment – something inside him tells that Akashi would be the type to relieve stress of terrible events through rampant and ravenous sex, which they had been busy with in the last couple of hours. The least he expected was to receive a gift due to a passing comment made weeks ago.

“You have a good memory...” he mumbles as he plays with the little figure in his hands, Akashi's gaze is a little tender as he watches Nijimura's fingers grasp and fondle the ceramic,

“I have a perfect memory.” he responds, voice languid yet crystal clear.

Before Nijimura can snort at that Akashi's phone goes off – this is the third time it has rang since Nijimura has arrived and always with a peculiar tone that is different than the default (and Nijimura has to timidly admit inside that by now he is aware of the various ring tones Akashi uses for different people and categories of people as well as the default one). Like the two times before, Akashi simply takes the vibrating and singing device and presses its power button once – it goes into silence, rejecting the incoming call.

“It is not something important? This is the third time the same person has called, isn't it?”

“You are too attentive.”

“I think I am just attentive enough. Who is it anyway?”

How stupid it is for Nijimura to even ask this; Akashi has every right to say “it is none of your business” and realising this makes the raven haired man a little insecure. Fortunately for him, Akashi does not respond so bluntly as he usually would do,

“It is Reo. I was supposed to meet them and others today, since I was in Kyoto but I came back earlier than expected and had to cancel.”

Oh... That explains it. And at the same time it does not: Nijimura has heard enough about Reo and the other Rakuzan teammates of Akashi to know that the redhead is quite fond and protective of them, especially so of Reo, and he rarely ever changes his plans so abruptly anyway, for his plans are always crafted perfectly in the beginning to account for any possible issues that may stray it and ensure that they do not.

“Did something happen with them? Did you fight?”

Akashi regards Nijimura's face for a second silently, he smiles then, probably because he has thought of something, he has discovered something, just what could it be? Nijimura has no idea but is content, if it made Akashi smile, somehow, it should be fine?

“No. Nothing happened. Not with them, not with anybody actually.”

“Okay...”

“You are rather talented at dealing with people, pushing just enough but not too much; I wonder why you are so bad at shogi. I find it quite akin to managing people...”

Nijimura's taken aback at the insolent comment but Akashi's amused gaze turns cold in the blink of an eye before Nijimura can respond; upon that he finds himself silent, waiting for the redhead to continue and he does,

“I met my father.”

“Is he well?”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

Nijimura has always known Akashi's relationship with his father is not exactly loving or even remotely familiar (or familial) and the one time he had the misfortune of actually coming across the head of the Akashi household, he thought nobody could ever have a loving or remotely familiar relationship with the man.

“Did he hurt you?”

The wording is wrong, he realises it the moment it comes out of his mouth; because nobody can hurt Akashi Seijūrō, right? Even his father who seems so omnipotent and omnipresent in the business world. Normally, Akashi would be furious at the comment; if anybody else uttered it, they would find themselves in a terrible predicament. Such wording is the kind of wording Akashi could and would only consider an insult.

Somehow though Nijimura feels, the moment he bites his tongue for putting it that way, maybe, just maybe he actually put it the right way. Because nobody is invincible – not even Akashi Seijūrō; if you prickle him, he will bleed, Nijimura knows this too well, for he has prickled him, bit him, sucked him, ragged him with his nails and many times he has drawn that precious blood – he knows it. He also knows intimately that the aura of the 'great lone leader' which Akashi so meticulously constructs around him is partially motivated by the knowledge of the fragility inside; he has known the young man who is now sitting naked on the bed next to him, as a child. A child with crimson eyes and crimson hair and a crimson distant gaze that would maintain its gravity and maturity at almost all times but those rare moments when nobody would be looking at him; in those very rare moments you could catch glimpses of that piercing gaze turn into the naïve, nonchalant, innocent stare of a joyful and hopeful child.

If there is anyone on earth who has so profoundly hurt Akashi Seijūrō, it is his father, Nijimura can guess that much.

Akashi considers the question for a second and Nijimura begs to any and all gods that he will not be lashed or thrown out naked. Then, the redhead replies calmly, a tiny smile is tugged at the corner of his lips, though he looks sad rather than content,

“I am too old for that. All he achieves now is to frustrate and anger me. But would you believe it, if I said, no, we did not fight? We truly did not. He did nothing extraordinarily agonising either. We only had dinner together.”

“Did he say something to offend you?”

“Nothing different than every time: my academic and social standing in the school, the status of my extracurricular activities and if or how they are benefiting my career plans and short-term goals, current developments in my social interactions and connections, stocks of the companies we own, my commentary on the latest corporate decisions of Akashi conglomerate, status of my own stock account and a brief explanation of my current investment choices.”

“I thought you met your dad for dinner but it seems like you had a business meeting with the President of Akashi conglomerate for a job opening?”

“But my relationship with my father revolves only around business. Our bond is characterised by the fact that I am the heir. Therefore, yes, it was a business meeting regarding my future employment at the Akashi conglomerate.”

“It must be frustrating...”

“I have always ever talked these kinds of things with him though. It is not as if when I went there I expected something else. Despite that I was frustrated more than I thought I would be, so I have to conclude that I simply cannot tolerate his insipid mind and manners any more. It seems as the time passes, my tolerance for him diminishes significantly. After the dinner I was caught by a strong nausea. I decided to leave instead of spending one more such night with him.”

“Nobody would blame you for not tolerating him...”

“Nijimura-san, trust me, many would blame me. There are many out there who are like my father or idolise my father.”

“Well, he is a smart man and he is successful at business I guess...”

“True and that would be enough to redeem him in the eyes of the many, but you see, I am brilliant to the point that he looks simply pitiful to me on that aspect; thus his level of acumen would not mean anything in my judgement.”

“When you speak like that I wonder how you see me...”

A useless and unnecessary comment, completely unrelated to the context at hand; perhaps his thickly veiled insecurities were spilling a little. Akashi smiled then though, genuinely this time and leaned in, cupping Nijimura's cheek within his palm, it was warm and soft,

“You have so many aspects to your character that make you more worthwhile of my time and attention than many who posses superior intellects...”

“That is probably the greatest compliment you could ever give to anybody, huh? And I hope you are not referring to my sexual prowess.”

“There a few others, but it is a subjective matter. And I am referring to many things, including your sexual prowess.”

The phone rang again, Akashi sighed before repeating the action from just ten minutes ago.

“Why don't you answer? Did you even tell your friends you were leaving?”

“Yes, I sent a message. If I had not, I am afraid they would have raised hell.”

“Why don't you answer though?”

“My father will stay in Kyoto till Tuesday, if I answer now, being a remarkably intuitive person, Reo will understand that my early departure was caused by my frustration with my father. Being also a remarkably passionate person regarding the peace of those they are fond of, Reo will rush to the mansion to confront my father. It almost happened once or twice in the past.”

“Suddenly I have a newfound respect for this Reo person...”

“You should, they are a wonderful person.”

“You are quite fond of them... Aren't you?”

“Yes, I am.”

“Was the cat a gift from Reo? I had thought it was from Kuroko since you were so fond of it but now that I think, it is not the sort of gift Kuroko would give.”

“It was from Reo.”

Akashi reclines to his back and closes his eyes, silence ensues for a few minutes as Nijimura continues to play with the little cat in his hands...

How do you console a man who should not be consoled?

How do you comfort a man who can be most discomforted by another trying to comfort him?

How do you relieve a person of their hurt and frustrations when those particular hurts and frustrations are beyond your comprehension and experience?

How do you help a person when attempting to help can injure or anger them even more?

A heaviness dropped into the pit of his stomach and Nijimura felt frustration rise within the confines of his soul; he hated not knowing how to deal with people, he had always been good at dealing with people, it was the reason why had been chosen the captain at Teikō, it was the reason how he had managed to survive in a foreign land, it was how he achieved to be a student at the top university in the country... He had thought it was also partially the reason how he had been allowed in this kind of a relationship of intimate proximity with Akashi, however now it felt like an utter lie.

His eyes about to close, not out of an impending slumber but to focus on the turmoil raging inside him with the hope of calming it down, somehow by the power of thought alone... Phone rings. Again. Before Akashi reaches for it, Nijimura reaches and rejects the call. The gesture has brought his upper body to hover above the redhead who seems to be astounded for a split second and then bestows that thin, devilish smile; the one that is suggestive of things only Eros could do better than him...

Thin, pale fingers reach out for his chest and Nijimura feels his frustration fleet away at the touch; perhaps it is magical, perhaps magic is – ironically – the only realistic explanation of the influence this young man of crimson hair and asymmetric eyes has over people... has over him. He cannot move his stare even a millimetre away from the twin orbs; they are exactly the same except their colour and Nijimura wonders if even the delicate patterns of the irises match and it is truthfully only the colour that differs... There is no specific source of light to shimmer them in the dim room but they somehow do from his perspective; perhaps it is magical and Akashi can control and bend reality like that as he wishes... The touch is painfully sweet and light but the nail that intercepts it now and then is a reminder of what this man is capable of, it says clearly and loudly: do not think that you are the predator ever, you are only the prey.

And this... this is enticing beyond words, so Nijimura's face dips down and meets his own charred lips with those of Akashi – always so thin and smooth and fatal in their allure. Like a dagger carved out of ruby.

After another hour of passion gone by, as if it actually occupied solely a few minutes, Nijimura decides that he needs a hot bath; he can feel every muscle in his body thoroughly turned sore thanks to Akashi's fervent need and his own generosity in attending to that need. When he hears the door bell ring he has just come back to the bedroom after his bath and wore his sweatpants, the pair that he keeps at Akashi's place (and how he has come to start keeping at least a few articles of clothing at Akashi's place is unknown to him, probably not so to the ever-knowing redhead).

He assumes it is a delivery of food or sorts like always,

“You ordered something?”

Akashi calmly wears his yukata, pure white with simple maroon floral patterns; he does not rush at all despite the continuous rings at the door,

“No.”

His voice is sure and devoid of any surprise but the answer unnerves Nijimura,

“Wait, were you expecting someone?”

He has never witnessed somebody else in Akashi's home before.

“Yes and no; I thought they would not be able to take the train so early but they must be getting better at their punctuality...”

“Wait... what?”

Akashi smiles as he leaves the room and Nijimura is left to himself in the bedroom, half naked.

He hears the door open, the howling sound of the door bell coming to a permanent end, and some shouting.

This is the first time he hears somebody else's voice in Akashi's apartment.

And realisation hits him. He might be discovered. Their relationship might be discovered. Right then and there.

This is the first time he truly realises how queer they relationship would look to most outsiders. This is also the first time he truly realises what little he can do to alleviate any potential issues that may arise from someone learning of this relationship.

“Why haven't you answered my calls or the damned door? Sei-chan, do you know how many times I called you today?”

“11 in total. You know I don't like when I am repeatedly disturbed.”

“But you were adamant about not answering!”

“To the point that you had to come all the way here from Kyoto?”

“Yes! I was worried dead.”

“You don't have to be worried dead. Nor do you actually seem dead?”

“Maybe I should be! I mean... not dead, worried that is.”

Reo does not have to point with his fingers, simply glaring at the patch of skin generously offered from the loose collar of the yukata is enough; there are fresh marks of red, carvings of passion, legacy of some very skilful fangs.

“You should be worried because I... have sex?” Akashi's tone is drenched in sarcasm which further fuels Reo,

“Ah don't play me like this... What did he do?”

“My bed partner? I think you must have a good idea already.”

“Is it really so amusing to play with my poor heart like this? What did your father do?”

Akashi's smile dissolves into a stoic expression, though compared to his impish gaze before, he looks much more sincere when he talks,

“Nothing, Reo. He did nothing. I was simply too frustrated with him, with everything.”

“That is...”

“Not like me? Perhaps.”

“And I can hear footsteps...”

“Oh... 'he' probably really wants to stay hidden but is extremely nervous right now and cannot help but stomp around the room.”

“You brought someone home...?”

“Curious, isn't it?” Akashi says and his devilish tiny smirk returns as he shouts to his back in a calm voice,

“Nijimura-san, it is fine. You can come in.”

He pauses for a second then shouts in a louder tone, “Please come.”

A few seconds later Nijimura comes to the living room, desperately wishing he had not spoiled his shirt; it seems Akashi put his t-shirts away somewhere and he could not find them, he tried some of Akashi's shirts but they were too small, so he is wearing a black singlet on top alongside his sweatpants, which are a little too low-rise and loose for his taste, but Akashi had once passingly commented that they looked 'very attractive' and despite his seemingly indifferent shrug at the compliment then, he specifically kept this pair at Akashi's place. Perhaps he should have changed to the shorts he also had been keeping at Akashi's wardrobe.

Reo's eyes grow large sizing up the man,

“Well, hello there...”

“Nijimura-san, this is Mibuchi Reo.”

Akashi signs with his hand and Nijimura nods whereas Reo grins,

“And Reo, this is Nijimura Shūzō.”

There is a glint in his disparately coloured eyes and Reo cannot help being genuinely surprised and glad,

“Oh my... Wow. It is him?!”

“Yes. I thought you would remember?”

“He was just a child then Sei-chan! My my, puberty does wonders, huh?”

Nijimura's eyebrow rise in confusion and suspicion,

“Do we know each other? I thought you were Akashi's friend from high school?”

“Oh yes, I am, but you must have heard of me. Though we never got the chance to properly rival each other on the court. Damn that Hanamiya... Of all the people to face you, he got that chance the most times. And Kiyoshi, but then I cannot stay mad at him. He is such an angel. And gorgeous.”

“It must have slipped my mind, Reo had been one of the 'uncrowned' ones... during middle school.”

Realisation dawns upon Nijimura alongside the very real fact that nothing ever slips Akashi's mind; for an unfathomable reason he has preferred to keep this particular detail secret, which does not make sense to raven haired man at all but he shelves it away to ponder about later.

He can still remember them, the Uncrowned Kings, and he distinctly remembers that one was rumoured to be a real beauty. He remembers how one of them had an aesthetically pleasing figure which was much likely to be the person in front of him, considering the delicate but strong build, beautifully full lips, intriguing eyes and pitch black long hair... Oh shit , he realises once again, he really is a menkui like Himuro keeps saying.

“I am sorry, I have been away from the basketball scenes in Japan...”

“I know! Everyone was curious about what happened to you. Some even said you had become a yakuza.”

Well actually that was not a far-fetched idea as much as he would have liked it to be, but Nijimura keeps his mouth shut about it. Akashi answers in his stead anyway,

“Nijimura-san was in the States. For a familial reason.”

“I see...” Reo says and it seems they saw more, much more to the point that their knowing smile turns into a blatant smirk as they mention,

“By the way, your hair is wet.”

This is the first time in his life Nijimura turns so many shades of red in such quick succession that he can quite physically feel different stages of embarrassment envelop him in deeper, hotter reds consecutively... He does not even get flustered normally, so the incident is an incredible blow to his self-esteem in every sense.

“I...” he starts, pauses, sighs, and then turns to Akashi to only finally realise how handsomely open the triangle of skin on his chest is and how beautifully the necklace of bites that was given only an hour ago looks now... So it was obvious.

So Akashi knew and did not mind. It is not civil in any way though, he is angered that he is not given a chance whether or not he would like to hide this relationship, his hands form into fists as if to contain his rising fury. He bites on his anger and let it calm down as much as he can before speaking composedly despite his face on fire with a crimson blush and his eyes glinting with obvious displeasure,

“I just had a shower.”

“I see...” again Reo repeats and it is obvious, they indeed see.

“I think I should go...”

“You do not have to if you do not want to Nijimura-san.”

“I want to, Akashi.”

“Oh, please don't mind me if it is because of me.”

“No, I was going to leave already.”

It is a lie, he had not been planning to leave for the night at all, that was exactly the reason why he had been so nonchalant about spoiling his shirt and damn, how the hell is he going to go out now, wear his jacket on top of a tank top?!

Akashi reclines on the kitchen counter as he fully turns to Nijimura,

“There is a blue sweater in the second to the lowest drawer, it is too large for me but should be a good fit for you. If you would like to don one of your own t-shirts though, my housekeeper apparently moved them to the third drawer from the top; however, I think they would be too thin, the weather has become much colder.”

“Thanks...” Nijimura says though he is very grateful in receiving this information, his voice is deliberately devoid of it, but Akashi only smiles in return, very pleased and amused. As Nijimura angrily stomps back to bedroom, Akashi turns to Reo whose previous fiendish, knowing smirk has morphed into a half concerned, half amused bewilderment,

“You are kidding me.”

“No.”

“You are sleeping with Nijimura Shūzō?!”

“Yes.”

“And he is in your home!”

“Yes.”

“How... even?! Is he?! I mean... Wow. He looks damn good, by the way. I knew it. That is why he was in my top ten list... to see naked.”

“You should have come half an hour earlier for that.”

“Damn... my timing always sucks. I am not punctual at all.”

“You are getting better. I had given it 60% chance that you would arrive an hour or so later than when you actually arrived.”

“So I surprised you?”

“No, but mildly entertained me with your improved timing skills?”

“Fine. For your information I am still shocked.”

“Fine.”

“So what, are you in a relationship? You... you love him? It can't be, right?”

“It can't be, as you said. I am not in love with him. We are friends and we have sex.”

“I see...”

“No, you do not and we can talk about it. But before all that, you are tired and hungry, aren't you? Take a shower and you can order anything with my phone,” Akashi leaves his mobile phone on the counter before starting to move towards the bedroom, “I'll be back...”

When he enters the bedroom Nijimura is already dressed up in the blue sweater, but sitting on the bed seemingly in deep thought. He glares silently at Akashi upon the intrusion,

“You are angry at me for exposing our relationship to Reo, I am aware, yet I had no choice but to reveal it to them.”

“Why?”

“Because Reo is an important person for me and I am open with them about my privacy.”

“This open?”

“This open.”

Nijimura sighs as he stands, it was not that he did not know how important Akashi seemed to value Reo but facing it so suddenly... His ire against Akashi's spectacle turns into a deep green envy for the tall beauty; why is it that Reo is so significant and close to the redhead?

An errant thought sneaks into his mind, could it be that they have ever done this too? Devoured each other fervidly, left marks of pure lust on each others' skin? The idea disturbs him so much that he buries it deep down, wills himself to reject its very existence.

“Fine...” he mutters and moves to the door where Akashi is standing, partially leaning to the door frame, the redhead's figure is calm and lethargic but a small amused smile tugs at the end of his thin lips, Nijimura stares for a second then narrows his eyes in comprehension,

“You knew they would come.”

“Of course.”

“Damn. Why? You called Reo?”

“Of course not. You saw it, I did not answer their calls.”

“You knew they would come if you did not answer their calls?”

“It is better if Reo is in Tokyo and not in Kyoto while my father is there, for now.”

“Why didn't you tell me?! What if they came in the middle--”

“It was more likely for Reo to arrive even later, when you would be fast asleep... Seems they improved their skills in timing and made it to an earlier train ride. Does it matter? I thought it would not since I have confidence that Reo would not betray my privacy or yours. If you are worried that our relationship will be exposed to outsiders, it won't be.”

“But it is already exposed! It is exposed to Reo.”

“But Reo is not an outsider for me. On the other hand, they are nobody for you; they have no place your life anyway, thus there is no reason for such worry.”

Akashi's tone is calm and clear as if he is teaching the basics of arithmetic to a child, Nijimura bites the insides of his lips as they move into that signature displeased expression, his brows furrow in enmity, and he steps forward to move past Akashi but is pinned in his spot forcefully with a sudden grip on his arm, he looks; Akashi's hand is pale and his wrist so slim, almost fragile in appearance... How deceptive.

How deceptive that such a delicate hand can induce such great force.

The strong grip turns into a tender caress in a second and when Akashi speaks his voice is soft, amusement faded away from his face and compassion dominates his gaze,

“It was uncivil and inappropriate of me and I take all the blame deservedly. But do trust me when I say, it was inevitable; if it was not, I would avoid it, for you.”

It is not the first time Nijimura easily caves upon hearing the gentle tone in the normally defiant and crisp voice of Akashi. It is also not the first time he hides how easily he caves in with a reluctant stoicism and a neutral scowl,

“Whatever...” he mumbles as he moves past and while stomping through the living room, not seeing Reo around somehow makes him feel better before he is out of the door and already rushing down the stairs, burning with a desire to just go home and forget this all.

Akashi turns from his position reclining on the bedroom's door frame to face Reo who has popped out their head from bathroom door, peeking towards the living room,

“He has a nice backside. It is a shame he wears such loose pants.”

“I concur. But they look attractive in their own way, on him, the sluggish grip of garment is quite delicious too.” Akashi responds, a peaceful smile settles on his lips, and Reo nods, giggling, before getting back inside and closing the bathroom door.

Chapter Text

Akashi sighs and dons a pleasant smile before inserting his key to open the door, Reo is pouting on the sofa and is already dressed elegantly, ready for an outing.

“I am home.”

“Welcome home... Finally!”

“I am sorry for leaving you alone.”

“If you were truthfully sorry, you could have just stayed Sei-chan! Do you know how frustrating it was? To wake up and find myself alone at home.”

“I had to go to school.”

“Please, you can pass your exams like a breeze even if you did not go to the school and no professor would dare make a matter of your attendance anyway.”

“My brilliance in grasping the subjects does not change that as a student it is my duty to attend classes.”

“Isn't it boring to be so prim and proper when you don't need to be?”

Akashi responds nonchalantly as he moves to the bedroom, only for Reo to follow him obediently as if ordered to do so,

“I am not so much prim and proper but respectful and dutiful.”

“Are you changing right away? You looked good in those. Slim fit slacks look stunning on you.”

“Thank you, but I have to suit up for our date, don't I?”

“Our date? What are you talking about? Well, I was hungry and how can a maiden say 'no' to Akashi-sama, huh?”

Akashi chuckles as he unbuttons his shirt, not minding Reo's presence at all,

“There is a reason why you yourself have dressed up so exquisitely, after all. In any case, how uncouth it would be to not take you out for a lovely dinner when you are finally in town. I heard great reviews for this particular French restaurant...”

Though his words feel like sweet and tender kisses for Reo, Akashi's bare arms and back cause a shudder and gasp, and not for the reasons they often did,

“You... You let him bind you?”

Akashi is unperturbed and continues his undressing without batting an eyelash to Reo's stare or the remnants of the rope burns on his body,

“Sometimes. Sometimes I tie him up. We both like diversity at times.”

“Do you trust him that much? I knew you did a bit, considering you took him home but... this...”

“I do trust him. He is a friend.”

“How much did you even know him before you met again? Wasn't the last time you saw him in middle school? You were literally children then. You say it so easily... ”

“It is true that when this started I did not have intimate knowledge of him to trust him to this degree but you do not need to have such close experience of someone necessarily; I knew his personality well enough to know the level of confidence I could have in him. After all, trust should never be about blind faith but a good perception of another's character and capability.”

“And that's it? It took you so much to trust us, even a little. You let him in just like that? Only because you can ascertain? Don't you think you overrate him by that?”

“Issues we had in the beginning were more due to my reluctance to properly relate to others. Thanks to you and others I am more comfortable in relating to people now, it is expected that it might be easier. Isn't it? Plus, knowledge of such a naïve phase in both our lives is quite important in deduction of one's character. All in all, this is more about the relationship he provides to me. You must admit it is convenient, pleasurable, and I do not mind him at all. If anything, I welcome his presence. ”

“And you don't welcome mine?”

“Reo.”

“I know we talked about this... But, I do not understand, why him but not me?”

“You do know why.”

“No, I do not.”

“It would not work. I would have hurt you.”

“And you would not hurt him?”

“Not in the same manner. You would fall in love with me.”

“What about him? Even if he does not love you now, what if he falls in love with you in the future?”

“First of all, when this started, to be frank I did not truly care whether he would be hurt.”

“But you would care right now, wouldn't you? I saw the way you look at him, you are very much fond of him, it is evident.”

Akashi sighs and stares at Reo's face, his friend's eyes are tinged with a mix of anger and envy... Neither particularly liked discussing this topic, it was already discussed enough times in the past, but it is unavoidable this time.

“I would and if he indeed fell in love with me, perhaps he would be hurt. But not like you would have. You are a thing of Eros, not just of flesh but of heart. You need your heart to constrict with longing and fall deep into a desperate craving of not just the body but also the soul of your significant other, and most importantly for them to feel as such for you. And I can never reciprocate such a feeling. He is not like that though. He is a thing of Agape, he does not need me to return anything, he would never even ask me to return anything even if he had no idea of my aromantic nature.”

“'Agape'? Yet he can tie you up and fuck you raw?”

Akashi receives the furious blunder with compassion, his voice is calm as he explains,

“Precisely why it has been very convenient and beneficial for me. You know very well how sex is a healthy and pleasing way of relieving stress for me as well as a natural inclination. You, yourself was vehemently against me seeking it in strangers, out of fear of what they would try to do to me or the distasteful drama they could unleash. Isn't this setting just perfect then?”

“Yes but I...” Reo does not or rather cannot finish that sentence but the ensuing perfect silence finishes it in the most accurate manner perhaps, Akashi does not comment to not further agitate his friend and silently changes into a pair of black dress pants, not minding Reo's stare that wanders with yearning over his alabaster skin prickled and stained beautifully with various bruises, legacy of his hours well-spent with Nijimura yesterday. When Reo speaks again his voice is less agitated but sad still,

“Did he really do nothing? Your father?”

Akashi turns at this and his face leans to the right side a little, he smiles to himself then, a genuine and poignant smile,

“No, he did not.”

“Yet you felt stressed enough to leave the city and hurl yourself into the arms of Shuu-chan?”

Akashi chuckles silently at the ridiculous nickname that somehow feels very endearing coming from Reo's mouth, though he is absolutely certain Reo has not actually uttered it endearingly (still he is aware that this is a step towards acceptance, which is good),

“Yes... Perhaps this time, I can even say that the problem lied with me.”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you know, Nijimura left for the States as soon as he graduated? His family had moved there for his father's treatment, the man was gravely ill. They moved before him to allow him some space and time as an adolescent, regardless he followed them eagerly afterwards... In fact the reason he had left the captain position to me earlier than expected was because of his father's condition and his responsibilities due to that... He...” Akashi pauses as if the words escape him and Reo cannot help his lips drift apart slightly in surprise, though not gaping, that would be only rude to Akashi; nevertheless, for the redhead to be so lost in thought or emotion to slip up in his otherwise impeccably fluid oration is a sight to behold,

“He,” Akashi repeats after clearing his throat quickly, “loves them so much. He loved his father so much and he was equally loved by his father and family. When I told him about how I cannot feel romantic love and questioned what 'love' is in the first place and whatnot, this resonated with him in terms of familial love... He started telling me how he could not understand his friends' indifference to their families during high school. How at one point as a high school student he had been ready to donate one of his kidney's for his father, if he could... That...” Akashi pauses this time to snicker dryly,

“That is something I do not understand. He initially entered Tōdai in Pharmaceutical Science, he is brighter than what most attribute him to but not that bright. God knows how much he had to study and struggle, but he did, he persevered. Why? For his father. For his family. Then his father dies last year and to me it is the perfect black humour of Fate. He does not break apart though, neither does his family; they became closer instead, stronger almost. He does anything he can to offload his mother, he works, he studies, despite not being particularly studious. He is so dutiful, so responsible, so dedicated... At times, he blames himself for his father's death... over some mistakes he did as a child, he was a delinquent and whatnot... Can you believe it? Can you believe how stupidly in love he is with them?”

Akashi snickers again and sighs,

“I do not understand it. I cannot. I never felt such a connection with my family. All I have are vague memories of my late mother. Even when she was alive, I was constantly held back from relishing in that love, because of my father, because of my duties, because of the weight of my future. Ours has never been a family; it is an enterprise which I am to eventually take over. When we lost her, we could not even come together in our sadness. Akashis never accept loss, so we didn't accept her loss either. Being the heir ruled my life like before, it still does. I never felt any lacking for not having a family like others. Yet when I met my father in Kyoto and the first thing he asks me is our stocks, I recalled how every time Nijimura calls his family, the first thing they ask him is if he is fine and eating well... If my mother lived, perhaps she would ask that too. Then I realised: I wouldn't know how to respond. If she magically awoke from death today, I wouldn't know how to love her. I wouldn't know how to react to such tender love.”

Akashi's face morphs into a bittersweet smile then and it is almost miserable that it prickles Reo's heart dearly,

“I am not envious nor do I think I necessarily need such affection at this point, but I am resentful. I was left with nobody but my father and he made sure that I lack this fundamental form of affection. Everyone takes it for granted yet I've never tasted it. Do you understand how enraging that is? To even imagine how things could be different if only... During our dinner, I felt such an upsurge of dissatisfaction and displeasure that I simply could not stand him. He is pitifully weak yet shamelessly arrogant. It was disgusting. I had to leave.”

Akashi has already finished buttoning his shirt and curses silently inside; Reo is one of the few people who can make him talk so long like that and also of such intimate content. He has to though, if he did not, the beautiful Yaksha would relentlessly ask him till he eventually answered. Why endure such heavy interrogation to begin with?

Reo sits on the bed dejectedly,

“Did you tell Nijimura about this?”

Akashi genuinely smiles then and Reo thinks, Akashi's sincere little smiles are one of the most beautiful things ever created by God,

“I did not, because I am afraid he would find some blame in himself. Moreover, we are close and intimate enough that he could feel the urge to be a 'family' to me. To give what I lack. It would be pitiful for him though and I could not tolerate the grandiose in him thinking so in the first place, despite knowing his pure intentions. He is inclined to be a martyr whenever he feels the need but I have no wish to make him one for my sake.”

“You are very fond of him... Makes me jealous, I must admit.”

“You are, I know. But I don't think you would prefer me not to...”

“No, I would not.”

Reo sighs and frowns a little, Akashi walks near them and combs the inky hair with his slender and pale fingers,

“I also know you are sad, because you are jealous and you do not like being jealous. You are also happy though, because you see that I am content and more peaceful than before and this makes you content, for you are a dear friend. And you truly are because you are also afraid, despite knowing how strong I am, you are afraid that he could somehow manage to hurt me simply out of the extraordinary proximity I've allowed him. But don't be.”

“Why? Because you are invincible? Or perhaps you trust him to the point that you think he would never hurt you?”

“Partially because I am as invincible as a human could ever achieve to be so it is very difficult to hurt me; however, anyone can hurt another, willingly or unwillingly; that is the nature of our kind, I am not so naïve to think otherwise anymore, I know better now. But don't be afraid because I will protect myself and not fall victim to my own demons or someone else's. I don't expect you to believe in him but me.”

“That is one fine line to seize a maiden's heart.”

“We both know you are not a maiden any longer, you know.”

“Ah please, my heart will forever be a maiden unlike yours.”

Reo, amused now, bounces up the bed and points to the door to which Akashi smiles and nods, as they make their way out of the apartment Reo mumbles,

“I think I am more jealous of him than Kuro-chan.”

“Interesting. Why?”

“Kuroko has always been more of an obsession for you than a reasonable and healthy choice and I know you well enough to know that despite all, you are too rational to continue an obsession forever.”

Akashi starts to ponder certain things he has not before upon this revelation, but only response he gives is a barely audible, “Hmm...”

Nijimura Shūzō did not expect any visitors that day. However, his visitors did not mind being unexpected, it seems.

The first happens to be Mibuchi Reo who storms into the cafeteria in the main building where Chemistry Department's labs are located. Nijimura does not have any chance of not realising them because not only is Reo towering over every other student at the cafeteria being blessed with a height of 190 centimetres but is also positively dashing. A surge of chatter and whispers coincides with the tall beauty's entrance and unlike the cadres of overworked and weary students trying to get a quick bite, Reo is refreshing, spirited, and very stylish. Nijimura sighs and wonders just what Mibuchi Reo would want from him but before he can ponder much about the question, Reo, having located him easily, is already sitting across him.

“I don't remember inviting you over to sit?”

“Oh, some handsome men indeed show their allure in their scowls.”

This only makes Nijimura scowl harder,

“Is there anything you want from me? Or are you on a tour of the cafeterias of Tōdai? Not to disappoint you but our food is pretty mediocre.”

“How sweet; your attempts at sarcasm, I mean. Obviously I came to see you.”

“Why?”

“I am not sure how to start, because I have never given a talk like this.”

“Perhaps you should not give it now either then?”

“Ah, but I think it is needed or rather I cannot help it.”

“What is it?”

“Okay, if I said it in any other way he would have my head. So let me put it this way: Akashi Seijūrō is a man you could never disrupt or unsettle by power or might or force...”

“I am already aware of that.”

“Nor can you by treachery, vice, or deceit.”

“Yes?”

“Good. Are you also aware of the fact that I did not mention respectful kindness, unselfish affection, and tenacious faith among any of those? Please do note. Please.”

“That is a very roundabout way of putting things.”

“I know and it is totally not like me, if only you knew me! But Sei-chan would be upset with me otherwise.”

“Don't you think you are overbearing?”

“Don't you think you are overbearing?”

They both sigh.

“Now that you understand, I can take my leave.”

“Reo...”

“What?”

“I am not overbearing. There are times I wish I was though.”

“It is better that you are not. He prefers you like this.”

“He does?”

There is a mix of distress and satisfaction in the smile Reo gives in place of a response, it is like a torrent of rain in the middle of a day of glaring sunshine. Nijimura's question is left unanswered and Reo leaves without any goodbye, as abruptly as they came.

The second guest Nijimura receives that day arrives much later. It is past 8 pm and he is trying to finish organising some data when he hears a knock on the door. The redhead peeks from behind the half opened door and Nijimura can feel his chest relax a little, his fatigue fade away a bit, and the realisation of this immediate peaceful and calming reaction is slightly vexing in itself.

“Do you have a minute Nijimura-san?”

“Yes. Is there something?”

“Nothing important, I just finished studying in the library and thought you might still be around. Here, you forgot it when you left the other day.”

The box is properly wrapped again and Nijimura stares at it for a second, various feelings rise within him, he holds it in his hands fully aware of what it holds inside; a small and graceful maneki-neko.

“Have a nice evening...” Akashi says smiling, he looks amused and satisfied and Nijimura wonders if it is in response to how he himself looks right now; he is sure his expression must be strange, but what kind of a face is he making? He was scowling and glaring at the numbers just a moment ago. He is not sure now. Before the redhead leaves though, he calls for him,

“Akashi.”

“Yes?”

“Has Reo left?”

“Yes, this afternoon.”

There is a glint in the stare that is equally crimson and golden, surely he knows about Reo's little visit, not because the particular visitor has told him but simply out of his near clairvoyant and omniscient nature,

“Would you like to have dinner?”

“Don't you have work?”

“I am about to finish the immediate part... like in five minutes? The rest can wait tomorrow.”

That was stupid.

How can he forget that he still has a little bit of work left? What is he expecting, the great Akashi-sama to wait for him in the lab? In return though, the great Akashi-sama simply sighs, not an exasperated one, a much entertained one, borderline cheeky,

“Well, if it is going to be five minutes, sure. There is a small Chinese restaurant nearby, it is a very modest place but I hear the food is very decent.”

Nijimura nods and puts the box on his work station near his laptop before he starts typing as fast as he can, Akashi watches over him, reclining at the door frame and seems strangely content.

A little later the work is complete and they go out together, making small talk out of the most mundane things as they walk side by side...

And Akashi does not comment that it took exactly eleven minutes and nine seconds for Nijimura to wrap up his work than just five.

December comes in all its freezing glory, it rains ice and Nijimura secretly fears falling sick despite the confidence he usually has in his immune system and stamina. Workload has increased tremendously at the lab as there is much they need to rush and wrap up before the Winter Break and his younger brother has fallen ill, so the brunette visits and calls home as many times as he can; doctors had called it just another case of flu, an epidemic has been ravaging the population these days, they said; some rest and proper hydration, it should pass, they said. But after a week, the poor boy is still pretty much bedridden and Nijimura is frustrated with himself and everything... This helplessness pisses him off, especially so when his mother literally shoos him off the house, claiming that he'll end up catching the virus and it's not proper for an adult male to be so attached to his family.

If anyone else uttered that last part, he would make them pay and even respond with some intelligent statements about masculinity and so on (vocabulary and ideas partially stolen from Akashi's long critiques and tirades) but he knows his mother is joking and only wishes him to relieve some stress and focus on some self-care.

But how do you care for yourself? How do you be selfish? Young man has no idea so he does the only thing that has ever been synonymous with self-indulgence in his own life: play basketball.

Perhaps, he still has some luck on him because Kise had indeed invited him to play with them that particular Sunday, he had declined earlier to visit his family instead, but now being free, he drops in. Akashi is there already; this is probably the first time the redhead is not the final person to arrive at the court but he does not seem to mind. Instead raven haired man can read a genuine concern in the sharp gaze that scrutinise him thoroughly and unabashedly.

Suddenly, Nijimura feels a little bit better.

They had not made plans at all but it is as if they didn't have to; both politely excuse themselves from the usual late lunch the group has after the games; instead they walk over to a café which Akashi has claimed to be serving a deliciously bold roast that Nijimura simply needed to taste. The place is too fancy for the brunette's palate and if he was the one paying, he would never hand over such a fortune for a single cup of coffee but he has to confess the coffee is perfectly delectable and manages to rejuvenate him despite all his hardly repressed concerns and raging depression.

“What is it?” Akashi asks finally, voice calm and attentive.

Nijimura wonders, in how many times out of ten the redhead is actually fully aware of the answer when he poses questions such as this? Probably ten out of ten, he concludes in his mind.

“My little bro is still sick...”

“Hmm... I heard flu is especially bad this time around. My housekeeper has been hit hard too, she could not come last week because of that. But she has been back this week.”

“So you're saying it's just normal? That it's 'nothing'? Doctors keep saying so too yet he has been bedridden for days...”

“I am not saying it is 'nothing', obviously it is something if he is ill. However, yes, it is likely normal given the timing and if there is anything I could do, it would be my pleasure. If you don't trust the doctors he has seen, I can kindly offer one of our hospitals, for example? They would be more than glad to be of service.”

Nijimura chuckles dryly, they both know why but neither brings it up, another sip from the mysterious black concoction that claims to be coffee but is much superior to any coffee he has ever tasted... It is then he realises how placid he feels now, his mind clears and his heart calms, it is like magic and he wonders the cause. The best coffee he has ever drank? The tranquil atmosphere of the classy café? Akashi's presence? The simple honesty of his grandeur?

“It's fine... His current doctors are not that bad. I've just been frustrated and worried... You're right though, it should be just the flu.”

A comfortable silence falls upon them and they relish it for a bit, at least Nijimura is sure that he savours it lovingly and Akashi seems to be as well. He breaks it later, when a specific thought comes to his mind,

“Could you help me buy a Christmas present for my sister? I am clueless again...”

The question somehow brings a small smile to Akashi's graceful lips and Nijimura cannot decipher why, still he is grateful; making the redhead smile always satisfies him greatly.

“Sure. When would you be available? I'm afraid, I will be extremely occupied the week of Christmas, we have annual corporate events and parties that I need to attend.”

“How about today? Not like the present will get old if I buy it early.”

“Sure. I'm free till evening.”

After they finish drinking their coffee and leave the place, it takes them less than only two hours to be done with the shopping, about an hour of which is spent on transportation alone; if it was left to Nijimura alone, he would have wandered from one shop to another the whole day. He shows his gratitude to Akashi by taking him to a ramen place he loves; it is tiny and looks pitiful but serves some great ramen and he knows the redhead does not mind as long as the food is decent and the place is not filthy. They take the train back home and the brunette wonders if Akashi ever uses such lowly public transportation when alone; probably not. Though he does not seem to be bothered at all despite the crowded space. Nijimura himself does not mind, actually he has to admit that now he takes a special kind of pleasure from blocking others from touching Akashi, thanks to his bigger build. The redhead is average and not minimal at all, it's him who has larger than average size and is particularly aware and satisfied of this fact at moments like this as their bodies press. On his part, Akashi is still like an ancient rock, despite the rattling of the wagon he does not even shift or slide – it is as if he is defiant and there is a peculiar smugness to his gaze that drives Nijimura restless with sudden desire; his imagination gets out of control and he fantasises the most obscene kinds of passion unfold between them in a wagon full of people, shaking ground, and blaring noises of the train.

Since when has he become so shameless and insatiable?

It must be Akashi, he swears inside and his breath hitches, his mouth runs dry as the asymmetric gaze bores into his eyes knowingly. It is as if Akashi can read all the x-rated filthy imagery off Nijimura's mind and it's ridiculous to think so but somehow the brunette is almost certain of it as a tiny impish smirk creeps onto the edge of Akashi's thin lips.

It's Akashi who leaves first, the cruel dictum of the locations of their residences. When Nijimura arrives home, the walk in the frigid air of December, facing lethargic but chilly breezes that blow snowflakes around and onto his face, has drained every bit of lust and fervour in him. He sets aside the presents (a nice silver bracelet for his sister per Akashi's recommendation and an 3DS for his brother per his own decision) and turns to his phone to give a call home only to realise he has received a message from Akashi Seijūrō:

[From: Akashi]

[“I'm sure you are the type who trusts more to modern medicine and I am as well, but here is the recipe of a herbal mint tea my caretaker used to make for me whenever I caught cold or flu. If anything, it is very soothing.”]

He hurls himself to bed and re-reads the message, scrolling down and checking out the recipe as well. He reads it again then. And then again. He does not remember Akashi ever skipping school or the club practice out of sickness, though he can recall several epidemics of flu that had raged their school. It was as if the heir had never been ill yet what he realises most intimately is that, it is bullshit. Of course Akashi gets ill too. The word 'caretaker' stings him profoundly; he remembers how Akashi never talked nor ever talks about his mother. On the other hand, his father, the famous head of the Akashi household, is a topic rarely ever discussed and if so, always with utter disdain. He imagines a child of ridiculously large eyes with the most preciously beautiful heterochromia, lying sick in a grand bed only to be looked after by a housekeeper... The recipe written below Akashi's own message uses a peculiar vocabulary that definitely does not belong the redhead; he must have contacted the said caretaker to actually acquire it...

A rush of affection floods Nijimura's chest and he wishes dearly to hold Akashi now; not passionately, not to devour him or be devoured by him, but to embrace him tenderly with kindness and love. Love of all sorts and natures; of friendship, of family, of romance, of camaraderie... Smother Akashi Seijūrō in all kinds of love, regardless if he will ever return any at all.

Then he realises how silly his worries and questions and internal interrogations had been...

He has come to love Akashi in all manners of love possible and there is no denying that. A relief washes over him with this realisation, the honesty seems to calm his frustrations from before but the weight of yearning is still very much present.

He sighs loudly in the emptiness of his own room and then forwards the recipe to his mother's phone and takes a picture of the gift boxes sitting atop his bedside table to send to his siblings with a caption of “Guess what?”

Later, he spends rest of his night studying, taking refuge in the cold formulae of stereochemistry as an increasingly uncomfortable and ominous silence rules the inside of his heart.

Chapter Text

What do you give as a present to a person who has or can have anything and everything?

It is an insoluble issue and Nijimura has spent too much time on it than he can afford considering the way he is rushing between classes and the work at the lab. Still, Akashi's birthday is close by and he is not sure how or why but the idea of giving something to the redhead has recently bored itself in his brain, his mind wanders off to the topic unconsciously.

What can you buy to a person who has enough wealth to acquire any item that can be bought?

After a particularly hot and heavy bout of lovemaking which left both of them exhausted to the degree that Akashi has fallen asleep in minutes, under the dim light of the moon Nijimura watches the delicate features of the young man sleeping near him and feels inadequate. He has felt inadequate near him countless times before, but it is different now; it is not about what he has and Nijimura does not or cannot in terms of talent, he has more or less accepted it maturely all his life. Now that he can relate to him in different ways, or rather he wants to relate to him on a more intimate level, it is a more staggering, brand new feeling of deficiency that hatches in his heart with sinister speed.

For it is not about money; if only he had some skill, any skill to create something. A musician or an artist or an author would never have such trouble with Akashi; they wouldn't have to buy something for him, they could simply make something for him. But he is absolutely talentless, during his childhood the strength of his punches and his indestructible stamina on the court have made him a name of sorts but then Akashi was probably better in fighting and surely so in basketball, he had to admit, not that either could lead to any meaningful gift.

Now that he thought of it, honestly, he had nothing to offer Akashi in any form; it was a miracle in itself that he was allowed to be his bed partner in the first place. Probably due to the absence of anyone else with such convenient conditions had helped him come this far but how long could this continue? He was never meant to stand near Akashi Seijūrō after all, they had never been truly equal.

What do you do when you realise that you have absolutely nothing to put forth for the one you love but your love itself and that person may not necessarily be interested in it?

Brooding did not lead to any results as he had expected but only bestowed sleepless nights upon him as though it was needed; the only silver lining to his days had been his little brother's recovery from the darned flu that had caught him greedily for weeks. Self-hate continued till the eighteenth when he had a miraculous realisation during breakfast:

Having more money in this situation would not help him precisely because anything he could buy, Akashi could as well. Similarly, even if he had the talent of an artist, unless he was a Picasso, any product he put forth would not interest Akashi much.

So, as pitiful as it sounds, there was no way to satisfy Akashi's standards anyway; perhaps the correct way out of this depressing predicament was to simply accept this fact and give Akashi, himself. Well, not with a red tape and all, such corny kinks were definitely not to their liking, but more in the sense that he could offer his company, like he had always. Considering how lonely Akashi mostly was and how their relationship in itself had born out of some primal need to leave behind that very solitude, giving him his presence would be the only and the best possible present.

“I am sorry but there will be a formal party for my birthday in Tokyo, my father has requested it; he regards it to be my début, rather old-fashioned but not uncommon in our social circles. I am not sure when it will wrap up.”

Great.

The last day of the Winter Term was December 22nd, so he thought to spend any days left focused on work and studies and somehow even managed to; by the evening of December 20th, he came home terribly tired after having slept only four hours the night before and having worked and studied all day till 8 pm.

Thanks to the insatiable clutches of work and school, his mind was spared from agonising over Akashi but now that he is alone in his apartment with nothing to do and a body and mental faculties thoroughly depleted, traces of yearning and questions of insecurity start to languidly reappear in his head. Deciding that the best way to counter this assault on his already wasted psyche is sweet inebriation, he spends his night drinking cheap beer. By about 11 pm though, the unthinkable happens; he receives a call from Akashi.

“Nijimura-san, I thought you would be awake. You are at home?”

“Yeah.”

“Have you been drinking? You sound a little tipsy.”

“You got that from just 'yeah'?”

“Yes?”

“Hmm I shouldn't be surprised if you knew even before I uttered anything huh... Yeah, I've been drinking.”

“Would you like company?”

“What about your birthday party?”

“I've just wrapped it up.”

“Fine then, come over.”

Nijimura hangs up and blinks in silence a few times, unsure of what the hell has just happened and fully incapable of assessing whether he has made a good or bad decision.

Throughout his birthday party Akashi greeted 32 people individually and personally. It was not random: these were the crème de la crème. The elites of the elites whom Akashi had to get along and acquaint himself well with if he was to succeed in his professional life. Others' sociopolitical worth did not deserve a personal introduction and were instead either dealt polite nods from afar or had to be satisfied with the general greeting he had given at the beginning of the party to all their guests. He also made a short speech after his birthday cake was cut. It was tiring and tedious but most importantly, it was obnoxious and repulsive.

He has gotten used to these type of events, has been attending them since he was a child, but being the centre of attention not just out of the nature of the great name he held (and his peculiarly perfect self) and instead officially being the topic of the night only increased the putridity of the whole affair for him. He was surrounded by them; constant strategies of backstabbing in making, whispered gossips and veiled envy, greedy gazes and pitiful obsessions... For a person who had the ability to see clearly beyond what people expressed, there lay an enormous filth in the souls and lives and very existences of the rich. Akashi, was unfortunately the owner of perhaps the sharpest and the most piercing gaze there was. He dealt with all of them courteously but his accumulating disgust increased his inner bloodlust.

Ah how lovely would it be to crush them all?

There were all kinds of criminals across such a high profile crowd; they looked pristine, prim and proper in their opulent attires and the insides of their hearts and minds were dirtier than the gutters. The most repulsive was the fact that they would never be locked behind bars, for they were too affluent and powerful. Akashi felt nauseous at times in their presence though his politesse never faltered, his violent inclinations seethed within his own abyss in pure silence.

Castrate the serial sexual offenders, steal everything from the most rapacious of thieves, expose the corrupt officials, bankrupt the avaricious misers, buy out the proud tycoons, and slaughter the murderers.

He was no Robin Hood though, he was no saviour, no revolutionary, no hero; regardless, it did not hurt to fantasise the demise of these pitiful vermin.

He could almost feel the stains of blood on his palm, legacy of the man whose hand he shook earlier the night, head of an internationally renown 'security services provider', or in other words modern day mercenaries, legitimated contract killers with an euphemistic title. How the man had smiled thinly and gracefully as they made small talk; voice so smooth, words fluid, Akashi wondered, did this man utter torture orders as easily?

Probably.

The kinds of people he came into contact with at these kinds of parties were the kinds of people society deemed and hailed as the best and in reality were the worst, scum of the scum. Thus, he felt sullied and corrupted as he spent time with them and his demons were always particularly enticed with his rising disgust, his more childish self equally amused and irked...

Only half an hour later though, as his hand knocks the door, for he hated using doorbells, his pale knuckles almost feel cleansed touching the old wooden door of the tiny apartment that belonged to Nijimura. If he could only stay with the brunette all the time, if he could have only spent the evening with him... Nijimura soothes him, even tames his demons; they are quite fond of him as they can clearly see a kindred ferocity inside those chilling grey eyes but they are peaceful and oft-times silent for there is neither a threat nor any decadence, depravity near his senpai.

Nijimura opens the door later than usual and is looking absolutely adorable with his inky locks messed, lucid eyes heavily clouded with intoxication, sleeveless black t-shirt revealing the well defined muscles of his arms, a pair of beige capri pants that are (unfortunately) not tight enough to grasp his form fully, and there is this tiny little scowl, a definite trademark only turned a little more juvenile than usual now. It is hard not to giggle indulgently at the sight but Akashi manages.

He does not even ask if he could come in for it is given, he simply walks in with a soft “Pardon my intrusion.”

“Is that a bottle in your hand?” Nijimura asks trailing him behind, not that the path is long, his whole room is no more than a couple of steps in length anyway; Akashi sits comfortably under the kotatsu, as he expected it is incredibly warm, explains why Nijimura is fine with such thin clothing in the middle of December. He also starts taking off his suit jacket and tie as he answers the question nonchalantly,

“Yes. A 2009 Château Lafite Rothschild.”

“Wine?” the brunette inquires as he grabs the bottle and starts analysing its prime packaging, it seems expensive.

“Yes, since we both like red wine quite a bit.”

“Hmm... This looks expensive.”

“Not particularly; I guess it's only about 140 000 yen?”

Nijimura almost drops the bottle but secures it again in his hands with a skilful catch,

“Are you kidding?! Wait... Don't answer that. Of course, you're not kidding. Wow, this will probably the most expensive wine I'll ever taste huh?”

“Not necessarily; if you drop by our estate in Kyoto one day, I would love to let you try a few real legends from our cellar.”

“That is an alluring invitation...” he mumbles as Akashi rises to grab the bottle from him, moving towards the kitchen counter that lined the other side of the room, probably to find a corkscrew, Nijimura simply reclines onto the wall behind him and watches the other's figure under the dim light of the room; he has already shed his suit near the kotatsu, his immaculate white dress shirt is the sole thing on him bar his underwear, pale and muscular legs look relatively thin yet sturdy and slightly hairy beneath his knees but his thighs are bare... His shoulders and back are not wide but his posture is absolutely perfect that he looks larger than life despite his average build. Still, most importantly, his hair is bewitching; its crimson colour emphasised by the whiteness occupying rest of his figure, its tousled locks only further accentuating its intensity...

In his humble dwelling, Akashi Seijūrō seems utterly out of place yet impeccably familiar and intimate; like a supernatural creature of the night who visits to feed on him after the dark and thus perhaps a figment of his imagination, an enticing fruit of a sweet delirium...

Nijimura blinks, finally rousing from his frivolous dreaming, when Akashi turns with an opened wine bottle in hand, moving back towards the kotatsu, there is a small satisfied smirk on his pink, thin lips; that's how the brunette understands that Akashi is aware. He is well aware of everything, as always. Even when his back was turned, he knew the revering stare he had elicited, perhaps even the precise thoughts that had lingered on Nijimura's mind...

He is not perturbed by this though, not necessarily because intoxication has always brought him a confident nonchalance and surely he is already tipsy; it is essentially because he has always known Akashi to be like this, all-knowing and frighteningly artful, and thus he has grown used to it, rarely ever disturbed by it even if he still finds himself in awe quite often.

Perhaps he even knows that I... No, not just 'perhaps'; he must know.

Nonetheless, it doesn't matter that moment or ever actually, unless Akashi decides to act upon it, so Nijimura exiles the straying thoughts away and brings the bottle he is being offered to his lips... The second his tongue is drenched with the luscious ambrosia, he thinks he has been fooled till now; there is no way one can be truly intoxicated with anything but this.

“It is... perfect.”

Akashi takes the bottle to take a sip, after which his tongue moves around in his mouth apparently, perhaps to savour better, Nijimura thinks it looks alluring but then that night he thinks everything about Akashi is alluring... and perhaps not only for that night.

“Mmm... nowhere near perfect but it is good. Very good.” he gives the bottle back,

“Well, yeah, sorry Akashi-sama that I am a peasant when it comes to these things.”

“The fact that you are a peasant is one of the things I very much cherish in you.”

“Is that so? Too bad then you'll dislike me when I graduate and start earning some real dough.”

“I don't think I could ever dislike you. Also, considering my wealth and the maximum you could amass in the future, I don't think we have anything to worry about anyway.”

It would perhaps count as conceited scorn to anyone else, but in truth there is not a shred of insult or belittlement in the statement and both are fully aware of it; Nijimura is painfully so, for it tugs on his heartstrings, he cannot help but feel special, hope to be special for the redhead... It is true his material wealth will never be anywhere near Akashi's nor is there any need to; he does not want the wealth, he wants the man.

The smile on those gracefully thin lips is so sincere, so beautiful, so amused, and being all in one so rare that Nijimura cannot contain himself, he leans in and kisses softly – both their lips are stained with wine, it feels acutely intoxicating and he is not sure whether it is the alcohol he has been consuming or Akashi. He can faintly smell champagne on the young man's body since he is so close.

“Hmm... You've been drinking too?”

“Obviously. It is my birthday. I was at my birthday party as you know. I did not drink much though. I never drink much in such soirées, you have to watch out for yourself very carefully.”

Nijimura realises clearly the tinge of bitterness in the last few words and he can guess that Akashi is not simply referring to manners; if he pushed on this point, however, it would only ire the redhead. Thus, he continues on unperturbed, deftly ignoring the last part, though a ludicrous wish to be thoroughly wasted together in this shared solitude has already fully blossomed in his chest;

“Considering you decided to ditch them and come here be bored and lazy with me, it must have been one hell of a party.”

“Lazy, perhaps, but I disagree with the bored part; it is never boring with you...”

He feels pain pierce through him with sweet pleasure.

“Please don't say anything else...” his voice is almost pleading as he buries his face to Akashi's neck and sniffs silently, he must look pathetic, but then everyone at all times must look pathetic to Akashi; how can his unyielding self-confidence crumble in front of this young man so easily at times?

It is not out of Akashi's grandness, he has always known it and faced it with his confidence intact; but there is something about the subtle affection he is being bestowed that he cannot deal with because he is unsure, everything is so uncertain, and he is so afraid to ask the question that could make it certain... So afraid that the certainty they will bring will be the one he does not wish. He is not used to a fear of this kind, it vexes him.

So Akashi falls into silence and Nijimura is grateful for it. Moments pass in perfect silence, they take turns sipping from the bottle, only melody resonating within the confines of his room is their quiet breathing. He is glad that only one lamp near the kitchen counter is on, he much prefers this bleary dimness now and it soothes him just as silence does. Then, moments later, he remembers,

“Happy Birthday...” he says and despite his inebriated state words come out crystal clear,

“Thank you Nijimura-san.” the little emperor replies, raising his right hand to slowly caress the tousled locks of the man still leaning onto him, they are like pitch black shards between his slim, pale fingers...

And the hour has long passed midnight, they are both aware.

They drink the bottle to the last drop and fall asleep together under the kotatsu. As he drifts into the sleep with a content smile, Akashi silently thanks again, Nijimura does not hear having lost his consciousness already, somehow though he shudders a little and tightens his embrace around his friend.

Soon the term ends and school is on holidays, Nijimura travels back home to spend the holidays with his family.

“We got used to American style family Christmases in the US.” he mentions in a message the day of his departure and Akashi feels a little amused, because how much of a traditional Christmas can you manage in L.A. of all places?

Akashi's larger family, all the unsavoury and egoistic relatives he has, also come together in Christmas; none are religious and very few are Christian, it is not about religion or family in any case, it is about business. Christmas is an opportune time when everyone has at least a day free of work and it is further away from the end of fiscal term for any resultant stock transactions to be internal trading, yet it is also close enough that the smart ones can deduce what's to come and act accordingly to profit. In addition, his household has been a relentless imitator and lover of Western culture since olden times, thus Christmas fits them even more so to the function, which Akashi finds endlessly amusing and subtly repulsive. The event takes place in their Kyoto mansion every year and he is to leave for it in the morning of the December 24th, the last two days before that he has to spend at other events of Akashi conglomerate. A few corporate Christmas receptions and a few charity events for children in poverty by the very people who are the cause of the poverty and the deep disparity in wealth; it is shamelessly ironic how they play this parade and everyone gobbles it up, especially the media. But then, it is how the system works, that is precisely what the media is for in the first place.

He sends a message to Nijimura on the 24th on his way to Kyoto,

“Is there anything you would like from Kyoto?”

“No.” is the curt reply and it somehow entertains Akashi, for he can perceive an underlying “I would like you back” in the single word of negation he received. If he has to admit it, though he will never be made to, he has missed Nijimura. There is a peaceful warmth that radiates off his skin and Akashi relishes it for it is soothing for him – all of him, all his personae. It is not exactly like how when a person misses their romantic lover, probably, he muses; but it is important enough for him. He rarely misses or craves another so it is especially exceptional and it is more about how Nijimura makes him feel, so at home, so serene, so secure, and dare he say so accepted and satisfied... than a passionate yearning to consume the other person emotionally. Not like the fiery longing he reads in amorous sonnets or great tragedies of love. But then why should it be any less important?

Romantic love is overrated, he once again concludes as he arrives to the old city.

He has always been fond of Kyoto, how equally fortunate and unfortunate that Akashi family's main household happens to be here.

The family gathering, both the cocktail and the formal dinner that followed it are extremely debilitating and tiresome. The distant cousins who try and poke around to see a way into the main branch of the family, preferably through marriage, but thank God none dares to even think of themselves as a partner for Akashi Seijūrō. He congratulates himself for the intimidating aura he has perfected over years working so well especially within his own household... Aunts who gossip carelessly as they showcase their expensive jewellery that could pay for the education of a dozen children, uncles who are ogling the female service staff as they make nonchalant discussions about profit margins and tax evasion...

“My equally pitiful and filthy family under the guise of a proud name...” Akashi thinks to himself by the end of the night as he watches over them from a corner, having wrapped up all the necessary greetings and formalities, he can return to his room finally. It is as if he is inhaling polluted air that corrupts and hurts his lungs and cannot wait to move away from them so that he can breath easier again.

It is when is close to his room, he feels a vibration in his pocket; turns out to be a message from Nijimura:

[From: Nijimura-san]

[“Happy Xmas. Here is our feast. Be jealous.”]

Akashi cannot believe his eyes and that in itself is a very rare occurrence. Apparently Nijimura was not kidding when he said their family got into the holiday spirit thanks to their time spent in the US; there is a Christmas tree all lightened up and adorned with trinkets, there are gift boxes, and there is a lovely dinner on the table, seemingly a fusion of American and Japanese cuisines, a large turkey rests at the centre of it. He smiles and on a whim calls his former captain instead of replying via text,

“You actually did not believe we go all out, did ya?”

“I must admit, no, I did not. It is very interesting, you were in L.A. after all.”

“Well, yeah, we were, still Americans are all about Christmas. Plus my dad thought it was a good occasion to strengthen family bonds so he was really into it every time.”

“As if you particularly need to strengthen them, considering how close you are...”

“You know even if we are close, it was extremely exhausting... The hospital, other people's attitudes, finances and whatnot... So it was a good idea I think. When dad could make it out of hospital, we actually went to New York City during Christmas time, it is absolutely stunning there during that time of the year...”

“Yeah, I have heard, though I never visited New York in Christmas.”

“You should.”

“Perhaps... some time.”

“How was your day?”

“I am actually at my family's gathering too...”

“Huh? I never thought Akashi family would be into these things... I thought you guys would not pay much attention, since you are traditional...”

“We are traditional but we are also modern and rule an international conglomerate. Plus my family has always been inclined to follow Western traditions.”

“Really? That's interesting. You wear yukata at home, your house is pretty much more Japanese than Western, you prefer Japanese food, and you prefer shogi over chess. Since your family is also old money, I thought it was because of your family.”

Akashi smiles at the observation, the little things few people catch, Nijimura can even though he often looks so disinterested and oblivious,

“I said my family has been inclined to follow Western traditions, not myself. However, your assumption might have some truth to it, perhaps I prefer the Japanese traditions precisely because of my family.”

“Hm, so you guys had a traditional Christmas celebration?”

“Not really. The 'tradition' aspect is more show and indulgence than intention and function, to be honest. It is a more business-like event than a familial gathering. There is a lot to discuss and much benefit in getting together once in a while, Christmas is a good excuse since all can take the day off from work. We just have a formal dinner and talk business. A lot of gossiping.”

“You don't even have a Christmas tree or turkey?”

“In general we do but for more formal reasons than festive entertainment, I suppose. We did not have turkey this year though. Our dinner was delicious nevertheless.”

“I am sure it was but turkey is a must. By the way, I can cook one hell of a turkey.”

“That, I honestly can't believe. I heard it is really hard to cook one.”

“Yeah but then there was that one Christmas when we were in L.A. and mum had to stay at hospital and kids craved a classical Christmas feast...”

“So you came through?”

“Exactly. I know only one recipe but I am pretty decent at it.”

“Always the dutiful brother. I wouldn't mind tasting your turkey.”

“Maybe one day, if you are a good boy...”

“It is a miracle that you haven't gotten yourself hurt yet despite that uncouth mouth of yours.”

“Hah, always talking big Akashi-sama. So anyway, was it... fine? The time you had with your family?”

“It was enervating and tedious.”

“Well it is your family still...”

“I don't think you would understand it Nijimura-san, blood is thicker only if there is devotion in it.”

Nijimura sighs loudly into the receiver and Akashi is sure that the content and veracity of his response has hurt the listener more than the speaker, that is somehow strangely comforting. To know that there is somebody who is actually saddened without any pity by what Akashi has long gotten used to as his reality.

“Mmm... it is a full moon tonight. How fitting. It looks nice.”

Akashi moves to the window of his room and shifts the drapes upon the comment that was made probably solely to change the subject, regardless, truthful were the words, the moon is stunning,

“It is exquisite indeed. There is almost no light pollution near our estate so I can even see some starts alongside it. How indifferent to our infinitesimal lives on here, the heavens are just carelessly magnificent...”

“Yeah and you just had to wax poetic, right?”

“It is the way I talk and you are quite fond of it in reality. Aren't you?”

“If it looks that good, you should take me there some time... One can never properly see stars in Tokyo, nor in Kanagawa...”

“Sure, it would be my pleasure...” and the first sincere smile of the night settles firmly on his thin lips, Akashi himself is aware of it, just how he is also painfully aware of the fact that Nijimura deliberately avoided answering.

There is little time left for them it seems, but savouring it would hurt none, would it? Therefore he does exactly that and intends to do exactly that, his eyelids close in peace as he listens to even breathing of Nijimura from the other side of the line.

“When are you coming back?”

“Tomorrow morning.”

“You're coming that early? Have an event to attend?”

“Not right away, I have one on the night of 26th. Then I am taking a few days off before New Year's eve. I just want to be at home rather than here.”

“I see... Want to meet up? Tomorrow?”

“Won't you be staying with your family?”

“I would like to come back to Tokyo. Too many things to do before Winter Break ends so...”

“That is, if you are going to be back,” is the premise that Nijimura does not pronounce, he does not need to, Akashi comprehends it nevertheless, though some part of him wishes he has not for it is an ominous realisation.

“Sure then. I should be home by noon.”

“I'll come in the afternoon then?”

“Fine. Would you like to eat out?”

“I could get some groceries on my way? To cook a bit?”

“Thank you. I would appreciate that.”

“Sure, no problem. What do you want to eat?”

“Turkey?”

“No way.”

“Fine, I was just joking. Anything is okay. I don't mind.”

Akashi cannot help but muse; why is it that feelings and actions weigh much more heavily than rhetoric yet can be easily broken with just words? It would take only a few words to bring an end to this little game they are playing, despite how soothing and vital it is for both of them.

He has never wanted for a game to not end and continue on forever, ever so like this... It is childish and he feels truly like a kid who is playing outside, watching the sunset with curiosity and awe yet in constant worry of the inevitable call from his mother for him to return home...

What do you do when the game becomes your home?

Chapter Text

“I am sorry.”

“'Sorry'? I came a day in advance because you said so! I am on my way!”

“And that's why I am sorry.”

“Shuu, what is it?”

“What is what?”

“You never cancel your plans like this. You are a bit of a stickler about such things, aren't you? I don't get this. What happened? I thought you had talked with your mum about me coming over...”

“I did and it is not about family...”

“What is it about then?”

“It is complicated? I just have to meet a friend.”

“A friend?”

“A friend.”

“You got a girlfriend?”

“Jeez, why does everyone ask the same question?!”

“Everyone?”

“My mum was adamant about the idea as well in the morning, kept telling that I was leaving the nest for a girl and that she was both happy and sad and I just couldn't make her believe that it was not a girl.”

“So it is a boy?”

Nijimura almost chokes on the tea he is drinking,

“What?! Why?”

“Why not?”

“You think I'm gay?”

“Why not?”

“Why?”

“Why not?”

Nijimura sighs for he is truly uncertain about how to explain the recent waverings about his sexuality without revealing the root cause of such questioning in the first place. The thought of admitting to Himuro that he might be bisexual does not concern him much, he is pretty certain that he will be accepted; his beautiful friend has never been a bigot in these matters though has always kept his own sexuality and private life a mystery so Nijimura is not entirely sure which way or rather which ways in total Himuro swings. However Nijimura also feels very unprepared and an urge of evasiveness is dominant within his heart. They can surely have that conversation later; much later, he hopes.

Himuro seems entertained and chuckles from the other end of the line,

“So, it is a boy?”

“It is a friend. We are not like that..”

“Really?”

“Really. Look, he needs help and...”

“You are rushing to save the day because that's the type of caring person you are? You're not being exploited because of that I hope... You are not necessarily very soft-hearted but you can be quite naïve, you know.”

“No, you're getting it wrong. He is very capable, the most capable person I've ever seen actually... It is not like he asked for help or anything. He is not feeling well and his life is very complicated, so I am trying to be... a good friend, I guess?”

“How come I never heard of this friend of yours? Someone so precious that you pause to care about his feelings and well-being despite your hectic life? That you cancel up on me? Or wait, maybe I heard of him? All those 'I stayed at a friend's place last night's or 'I will be out with a friend's were about him?”

“Sometimes? We are kind of close. I mean he used to be a kouhai too. From childhood though.”

“And you guys became reacquainted... because?”

“Because we go to the same university. So in a way he is my kouhai again. Can you stop with the weird insinuating tone?”

“Oh, so he is in Tōdai too, huh? That makes me feel better, less of a chance that he is a swindler, more likely that he is an overworked student like you.”

“He is really... nothing like me...”

“In a good or bad way?”

“In every way? I don't know... He is perfectly gifted, ethereally beautiful, and exquisitely intelligent yet he is ridiculously even if deservedly proud and vain. Also, too much of a loner. Intolerably stubborn and introverted at times.”

“Are you sure you don't love him? Well, if he is beautiful, you've always been superficial about it...”

“Come on! I just... appreciate beautiful people... and things.”

“Mostly people. I still remember how struck you were when we first met. It was cute actually.”

Nijimura could feel the heat over his face accelerating despite the cold weather of late December; he was walking home, drinking tea to warm himself a little, and now his face felt as warm as his fingers holding the paper cup – perhaps he did not need the warmth of the tea any more.

“You are awful. The point is, I won't be able to make it to dinner with you tonight nor am I going to be in Kanagawa.”

“Well, I can find a place to crash in Tokyo. We can have breakfast tomorrow then... perhaps?”

“Uh... no I don't think I'll be available.”

Because it is a given that he will sleep with Akashi tonight and though he has missed Himuro and would enjoy having breakfast with him, waking up late with the redhead in his arms and then preparing breakfast for him... well, the latter is definitely more alluring, no offence to his friend.

“You got to be kidding me.”

“Come on man. How about we meet on 27th?”

“I have some prior arrangements for that day.”

“I have too but at the evening, I am free in the morning; do you have time? There is this American style breakfast place I discovered, they make super pancakes.”

“I am available for breakfast I guess, assuming you are paying? Since you stood me up.”

“Sure, I guess.”

“Someone is generous huh?”

“Holiday spirit?”

They both chuckle.

“I am glad you are doing fine Shuu...” there is contentment and relief in Himuro's voice that pricks Nijimura a little in the heart, because if his friend had any idea about the kind of emotional game of chess and the complicated relationship Nijimura has been involved in, he would be more upset than contented or relieved.

“Yeah. I am glad you are too... Talking about kouhais, by the way, you should introduce me to that kouhai you are so proud of.”

“Hmm... He is coming tomorrow to Tokyo actually, to meet some of his friends. I could introduce you to him, we'll stay till New Year's.”

“Good idea.”

Then Himuro starts talking about his school and Nijimura falls out of synch with their conversation, his mind wanders how Akashi said he would be taking time off events and duties before New Year's, he is free too and how delightful it would be if they could spend the time together... It feels lovely and serene and he is afraid a bit that this might be the calm before the storm.

They spend the 25th at home, Nijimura cooks fried rice with tofu and Akashi eats hungrily, then they have sex, then they have a long soothing bath together, then they make out until they both fall asleep. To most they would likely appear as lovers; the level of comfort they have achieved with each other is above all they ever felt with anyone else, but it is not really the same sort of romantic relationship people have. It is not simply due to the words that are not spoken or the labels that are deliberately avoided either; it is evident in small gestures now and then, at the nonchalance of Akashi, at the continuous uncertainty or even lack of a future together...

When he wakes in the morning, Nijimura finds crimson locks laid gracefully on the right side of his bare chest; his sight is still bleary and uncertain, though he know that it is Akashi's head, his bewitching hair on his chest, he muses that it looks as if he has been shot on his chest... He finds the metaphor painfully sweet and quite appropriate in ways more than one.

They stay like that for another half an hour during which he simply regards Akashi sleeping; the tousled carmine hair, the soft and warm pulsing breaths against his naked skin, the pale arm that wraps him from one side and the leg snaked between his... When his bed partner is finally awakened by his ever so punctual biological clock, he smiles contentedly for a second or two, perhaps even unconsciously for his eyes are still closed, Nijimura is unsure but elated at the sight regardless. There is a certain unsealed naiveté, audacious peace, and subtle confusion on Akashi's face as he rouses from sleep, surely something kept hidden and away from prying eyes, a blunder of honesty and innocence that needs to be protected and kept a secret, for it could be exploited, for it is undeniably a moment of vulnerability.

It is precisely why Nijimura is fond of witnessing these moments.

They have breakfast together then they laze at home together; Akashi draws letters out of pitch black ink onto a paper of pure white and Nijimura finds an odd peace in observing him... Perhaps it is the grace by which Akashi moves at all times, turning even the mundane actions into artistic performances, aesthetically pleasing spectacles; it is even more so when he is so captured by an art or a sport, whether it is calligraphy or shogi or basketball... By afternoon Akashi-sama's suit is delivered, all pristine and perfectly ironed, he changes into the item and Nijimura thinks how differently alluring his kouhai always is in formal clothing.

“You can stay if you like but I will be back very late...” Akashi notes before he leaves. There is no insinuation in his words, it is simply an informative statement; Nijimura has to hold in the fact that he could wait however long and he would not mind at all Akashi being late and by the way, wouldn't it be nice to have a goodbye kiss?

Why is he so awfully sentimental around Akashi?

He is pleased that he can keep these thoughts inside, unpronounced and hidden, because not only would they certainly break his fragile bond with the redhead, but also because they would embarrass him profoundly. What is unfathomable to him is how he can even imagine them or feel the desire to live them out despite their corny nature and his characteristic reluctance for all things syrupy... Perhaps Himuro is right in that he is a little sappy inside.

He makes the bed they so spectacularly messed up the night before, it calms his nerves down and provides him a sense of normalcy and control before he leaves the apartment, about an hour after Akashi. He wonders what would happen if he indeed stayed till very late, would it change the pace, would it change the direction... of this unidentifiable thing they have? Would it reveal to Akashi his inner cravings and feelings? But then, Akashi probably already knows. No, it is not just a matter of 'probability'; he must already know.

It feels weighty again with a tremendous pressure on his chest. He wonders, why and how he can swing back between emotions so light and heavy like this; it is manic and taxing on his body and soul. He sighs and wishes that he had made plans with Himuro for the night. It would take his mind away from this brooding and he would truly appreciate the company.

Then, hours later, at 10 pm, when he is going over some study notes after having found nothing better to do than delve into the rabbit hole that is astrochemistry, his phone vibrates;

[From: Akashi]

[“Would you care to join me in a hotel room? I think I would like to spend some hours with you in private, if you would agree and are available, of course. Conrad Tokyo. If you give my name at the reception, they will inform you of the room number.”]

In all honesty, it is a booty call and very rare in that they are meeting outside. He does not even think before typing out and sending a curt “OK”, for it indeed is okay; more than okay actually.

As he enters the hotel's reception Nijimura thinks that perhaps he should have worn something else; he stands out a bit, with his old army green parka and worn out jeans in the lobby where most are in suits or similar half-way formal and expensive attire. Luckily he does not have to stay for long, he gets the room number and quickly ascends to his floor with the elevator. The door of the room opens before he knocks and Akashi stands behind the door, his figure only partially seen but his gaze gleaming with obvious desire and he looks as dazzling as he did before leaving home earlier that day, his slim-fit suit carefully accentuating his build.

The moment Nijimura enters in, he realises two things: first, he is in an expensive and large suite room, and second, Akashi has drank a little and alcohol can be tasted on his lips.

He revels in both, because, why not?

It escalates the moment he is inside and the door is shut firmly. It is quick, dirty, needy, loud...

Before he can stabilise his breathing in the aftermath of his own climax, his body naked and completely spent in the large bed, Akashi moves out of the sheets and stands; a pain strikes inside Nijimura for the invitation was odd, hence... Could it be meaningful in some other way? Could it be the end? Could it be–

He cannot continue with the worrying line of thought as a satiated little kiss of gratitude is gently placed on his lips; it is much chaste, especially considering the kinds of things they were busy with just moments ago. It is brutally sweet though.

“I am afraid I will have to visit the party once more, it has not wrapped up yet.”

“So you literally took a break in the middle of an executive level Christmas-slash-New Year's party just to screw?”

“It is a rather impolite way of putting it but, yes. Apparently I can be surprisingly self-indulgent at times. As expected the party is suffocating, I needed a repose.”

“I don't really mind... Hey, did you book the room for the whole night?”

“Yes, and for the morning too. If you would like to stay.”

“Yeah, it is too late, I don't even know if there are still any trains... I think I'll stay the night.”

“Have a good night then.” Akashi smiles politely and Nijimura feels calm settle over his entire being; how terrified he was a moment ago when the worst possibilities had come to his mind. He is glad it is not them. He is further glad as he observes Akashi don his expensive dress shirt over the myriad red marks scattered around his back; perhaps it is the fact that he cannot even lay a claim on the heart of this man that he so childishly tries to mark his flesh, but then the redhead has never truly complained and has quite a nasty habit of biting himself. A multitude of bruises, old and new, graced all over Nijimura's own body would be truthful witnesses to that fact.

He does not ask for Akashi to stay nor if he will come back.

Akashi leaves without any other word and sleep overcomes his tired body soon after the redhead's departure.

Then god knows how many hours later, he hears footsteps and the door's silent sound of opening and closing. He does not even crack his eyes, he does not know exactly what time it is but it must be late, he does not move an inch or inform the person that he has been awoken by their entrance; he relishes the masquerade of slumber and silence. Soon a body colder than his lie near him under the sheets, a cold arm touches his back and for a second cold and tender fingertips caress his spine; it feels chilly and enticing in an asexual but truly amorous way despite the absence of any such emotion within the instigator of these touches.

He cannot fathom how this man who is not capable of loving another romantically can induce such deep romantic feelings in him. It is a mystery that he cherishes and revels in as much as he agonises over.

He turns in fake slumber, eyes still lidded peacefully, a languid move akin to the unconscious shifting of an asleep person upon unexpected stimuli, his arms wrap around the colder, smaller body near him and as if in synch a pair of arms muscular but thinner than his own wrap around him loosely at his naked waist.

The embrace is so lovely, it takes all his willpower to not open his eyes and look in wonder to the redhead currently breathing warm, easy, and tranquil in his arms.

He manages it. He does not say anything nor does he make it apparent that he is awake. And that he is glad, so perfectly glad to have this man in his arms. He is sure the other knows this and though the thought of this comprehension is normally terrifying because of the implications it can hold, for now the moment is so consummately serene that even his straying worries cannot harm it. An unyielding veil of peace shrouds them and no misery is allowed in.

They fall into sleep in a tender embrace that is much uncharacteristic for both of them.

He wakes to a weight on his lap and as his eyes open to take in the light of the day and his mental faculties slowly crawl out of slumber, he murmurs,

“It's morning...?”

A pause in which his eyelids feel incredibly heavy and his body almost drifts back to sleep but he holds onto his consciousness, he murmurs again but it is almost inaudible,

“What time is it?”

It is precisely the word 'time' that triggers him to complete awareness and his eyes shoot open,

“Wait... The breakfast!”

And it is precisely opening his eyes fully, taking in the view in front of him and the body literally on top of him that causes his heart to skip a beat, his breathing to speed, his mouth to run dry... He murmurs again,

“Oh... Akashi...”

Oh Akashi, indeed, for the younger male is unabashedly naked bar his equally tiny and tight underwear and is much boldly straddling him. It is the best way to be awakened, Nijimura thinks, any day... but today.

“Hello...” the redhead's voice is silky, placid, and clearly suggestive,

“Hello there... What time is it, again?”

“8:42.”

Akashi dips his head forward into Nijimura's neck, his breath is hot and his tongue is desirous, enthusiastic. Oh how greatly Nijimura feels the need to return that enthusiasm. Any time, any day... but today.

“Ah good... I have to meet a friend at 10. For breakfast.”

He knew uttering those words would cease the heavenly treatment he is receiving; knowing beforehand does not make it any less awkward or unsatisfying to feel the warm mouth suddenly leave the sensitive skin of his neck,

“Oh. I am sorry, I did not know.”

“No, I should have told you. I think I forgot.”

Akashi moves away gingerly but the damage has already been done, Nijimura quickly calculates in his head whether or not they could go for a round before he leaves but he has a long way to go. He'll barely make it as it is and Himuro hates waiting and he himself hates making people wait...

He unwraps himself off the bedsheets and moves towards the bathroom under the careful eyes of Akashi, the reason is obvious as he gazes to himself after a quick shower in the large mirror of the bathroom; there are innumerable wanton markings of pure desire, of teeth, of nails, of hands... on every corner of his skin and flesh. Luckily it is December. Not that he is going to show any skin and he secretly adores the way Akashi is subconsciously adamant about marking him; there is a certain possessiveness to his touch in moments of lustful intimacy, Nijimura welcomes and craves it in silence.

When he is back in the same room with Akashi, he curses inside for his fortune (or rather misfortune) and an internal debate on the possible excuses that could be made for cheating on his promise with Himuro starts; he curtly stops it though, he has better willpower than this and Himuro is a dear friend. Still, none of it changes the sight before his eyes; Akashi is lying on his stomach, his whole body bare except the black underwear that seems to hug his hips sinfully tightly, the mere contrast in colour between his skin and the little piece of clothing is simply mesmerising and as if that's not enough the contrast of his pale skin and the deep red colour of his hair adds another dimension of allure. Akashi is swiping at god knows what on his phone while licking and nibbling on the lips swollen from the lascivious affairs of the previous night.

How Nijimura would wish to cover the smaller body with his, right in this moment, and claim those lips for himself once again...

But Himuro awaits, thus he swallows on his desires and begs them to go away, by then Akashi's stare is back on him already, mischievous and certainly of his own effect;

“Is there something?”

“No. I was just wondering what is it that got you licking your lips like a little kitten?”

“'Kitten'? Really, Nijimura-san?”

“You would make a cute kitten.”

Akashi rolls his eyes in annoyance and Nijimura thinks it is even cuter; especially how it emphasises their asymmetry in colour.

“I was looking at the menu of the hotel from their app, it seems I am very hungry. I did not have much of an appetite last night but did not shy away from exhausting myself.”

“Oh I see... Well, I would join you but as I said I am meeting a friend for breakfast.”

“It is not a problem. I understand.”

“You are free for the day?”

He liked having small talk with Akashi, it added this sense of familiarity and aura of a 'couple' which they were in a sense but also not in another sense. He liked to think they were, somehow.

“Yes. Except the evening of course. As you know.”

“Oh! Murasakibara!”

“Yes. Atsushi has already arrived Tokyo yesterday. We shall have dinner tonight per Ryōta's suggestion. You promised your attendance as well.”

“I will come you know, I am not running away...”

“Good, I think it would be good for Atsushi to meet other adults. He still has issues regarding maturity.”

“Hah, not much surprised at that. I am shocked he could even survive without you.”

“He is brilliant and perfectly talented in many fields. The problem is thus not one of survival but his own tendency to need for someone to follow. As long as he finds one, he shall be fine. Though I would be happy if he could change that habit.”

“And he did? He found someone other than you?”

“Obviously, I was not present in his new environment after all, he had to find someone new and he did.”

“Oh? Must have been one hell of a person for Murasakibara to attach himself to. A great basketball player probably? Or maybe an outstanding pastry chef or something?”

“Neither, I am afraid.”

“Really?”

“He is good at basketball, very decent indeed, but incomparable to anyone from our old team in Teikō, including Atsushi.”

“But I thought Murasakibara only respected and followed people he thought were more skilled than himself?”

“Exactly, thus the mystery.”

“A mystery you haven't cracked? I could not even imagine...”

They both snicker simultaneously at that, Akashi is sitting on the bed now, his knees closed together and pulled to himself, his arms settling peacefully around his knees, there is an amused smile on his face.

Nijimura is just hoping that Himuro will not realise how wrinkled his clothes are as he tries to get dressed.

“That person is exceptionally adept in taking care of others, empathising with them, and acquiring their loyalty and respect. One could say he is an expert at reaching out to loners and misfits with splendid skills.”

“Oh... interesting. Reminds me of a friend.”

Akashi's eyes widen but so slightly that Nijimura cannot catch it, when he speaks again there is a special playfulness to his voice,

“Also to note, he is extremely beautiful. Very exquisite indeed.”

“Wow. Okay, if you say so. Will we be able to see this beauty tonight?”

“Probably, they are a bit inseparable.”

“Oh, like Kuroko and Kagami?”

“No, not in that manner. At least for now. Future holds many possibilities.”

“I see. Should be good meeting him.”

“You are such a menkui, Nijimura-san. I hope he does not charm you into oblivion.”

This actually surprises Nijimura; he has heard the argument many times, especially from Himuro, and he has to admit there is some truth to it... but this particularly serious and courteous kouhai to utter it so playfully? It is perplexing.

“Well I respect and enjoy beauty but I am not superficial.” is his offhand answer, because avoiding or rejecting it would be meaningless against Akashi, who chuckles at the answer, though it is a little dry for a reason the brunette cannot decipher.

“And you are the most beautiful thing I've ever seen...” is the statement Nijimura does not pronounce but thinks and feels with every cell of his body; Akashi smiles tenderly then, his eyes are understanding and almost compassionate, as if he already heard the unsaid sentence. Perhaps he knows, Nijimura thinks again and referring not just to the words he swallowed, no, he definitely knows, he corrects himself silently in his own mind.

Well, till he is fed up with it or one of them reveals it... Seems until then Akashi will ignore. Nijimura is fine with that. He is, in fact, more than fine with that.

“Do you remember the address?”

“Not really. Could we go together?”

“Sure. We wouldn't want you 'stopping on the way' after all.”

Nijimura chuckles then a thought occurs to him,

“Would we leave together after the dinner? Since you are free tonight? It felt bad to reject you earlier, you know.”

Akashi is slightly surprised at the cheeky tone and snickers proudly, amused; there is a tinge to this grand pride the young man holds that somehow turns Nijimura on and it feels so wrong.

“Nijimura-san, nobody could reject me. In consideration of your predicament, I simply took away my offer before fully realising it. That is all there is to it.”

“I see...”

One crimson eyebrow rises in elvish threat to which Nijimura replies hurriedly,

“I didn't say that in irony, you know. I fully trust your words on that Akashi-sama. So tonight?”

“Sure, but why wait till night? If you are so desirous, assuming you'll only have breakfast with your friend. Or were you planning to spend the whole day with them until the dinner?”

Now the truth is he actually only promised the breakfast part to Himuro though he had planned to spend the whole day with this friend. But he should be only expected to keep the part which he specifically promised and nothing more, right?

The glint in Akashi's eyes spellbinds him, his complicit conscience stays deliberately silent as he responds in urgency though his words come out dishonestly calm,

“Yeah, sure. I only said we'd have breakfast to my friend.”

“Great then, there is this particular hotel I've heard a lot of interesting things about. It is not far from the restaurant where we will have our dinner too.”

“Aren't we having the dinner in a fancy restaurant you chose? They have that kind of hotels nearby such upscale places?”

“I guess you would be surprised, but sure. This particular hotel is known for its sensitivity for privacy and popularity among the wealthy.”

“Oh, I see...”

“And its play rooms. I hear they have nice settings, various outfits and such.”

“Oh... I see.”

“So?”

“Well, I wouldn't want to turn you down Akashi-sama.”

Akashi chuckles,

“As if. I am wondering if they have a butler uniform? They should, right? Then you could call me 'Akashi-sama' to all your heart's content.”

Before Nijimura can respond to the cheeky suggestion, Akashi's head drops to the side and his thin lips adorn a devilish little grin,

“You are going to be late, if you spend any more time here, I am afraid you will have to cancel altogether.”

“Damn! Hey! Send me the location to meet for the hotel via text, okay?”

“Sure. Take care Nijimura-san.”

“See ya!” he shouts back before rushing himself out the door.

When he is finally outside the hotel, the cold weather slaps his face and he second-guesses himself on whether to go meet Himuro or just return back to the warm hotel room with 'Akashi-sama' in it. He grudgingly swallows his desires and lovestruck follies and makes his way towards the bus stop.

Just a few hours, just a few more; then he can call the other 'Akashi-sama' to all his heart's content...

“Now this was good...”

“See I told you.”

“Yes, you did but I am surprised... How do you even know a place that is not run-down and cheap as dirt?”

“Come on now. That's rude.”

“But it is just a little too fancy for your standards, you have to admit.”

“Yeah, I know. A friend introduced me to it. Saying that I might have missed American style breakfasts... Though more than half their menu is pretty much Continental than American. Still, tasty.”

“Oh? Wow. A breakfast guru, now are you, huh? Which friend is this, I wonder, the same one you talked about other day?”

Perhaps he should not have revealed the 'friend' bit that but what is said is said, there is no way to rewind so Nijimura simply nods as nonchalantly as he can as a response, which unfortunately seems to intrigue Himuro even more.

“Tell me about this kouhai.”

“There is not much to tell, really.”

“You sure? You spend awfully a lot of time with a person you think there is not much to tell?”

“He is simply perfect and thus perfectly burdened and I cannot help but feel motivated to be there for him when he needs me. It is complicated.”

“Wow... And you sure you are not into him?”

“Why are you so curious about my private life all of a sudden? You were never like this before. Why now?”

The answer is already known, Himuro has been especially protective and thus perhaps a little intrusive since Nijimura's father's death last year. But this is hard to admit for both of them and they are both aware of this; hence the question – it is to end that particular line of conversation, a rhetorical device to stop the other, than to actually extract an answer.

It works too, Himuro smiles endearingly and changes the topic. They chat as they drink coffee and soon an hour has already passed and it is past noon, Nijimura realises it is time to leave. This is the tough part and the moment he reveals his intention to leave, Himuro's eyebrows furrow,

“What? What now? You can't be serious.”

“I have a thing... in the afternoon.”

“You have a 'thing' in the afternoon? What is that supposed to mean? I thought you said you were free until the evening.”

“Yeah, I was but then something happened.”

“Just what exactly?”

“I need to... meet up with a friend to give him something...”

Well, technically it is not a lie.

“What are you talking about? For God's sake, don't tell me this is about that kouhai you are obviously obsessing over?”

“It is not like that... And I am not obsessing over him.”

“Look, I'll say this once and you'll answer once and then we'll assume it was never talked: is this because of your father? Are you searching for a new person to dedicate your whole life to? You found a seemingly perfect boy in dire struggle with various issues and want to be their saviour since you failed in your previous task? A need for a new duty to make your life meaningful? A coping mechanism?”

Nijimura sighs, it is not as if he has never had similar doubts, he was brought to interrogate them by Akashi too, quite a long time ago by now. There a lot about his feelings that he is still unsure of, but not that part.

Akashi is not a coping mechanism even if his presence helps him coping with life, with the aftermath of his father's loss.

“It is not like that. It is true that I can be foolishly selfless, but this time, it is not like that. I guarantee you. Plus, I can be very selfish when it comes to my family, you know that. I don't have time to dedicate myself to another but my family.”

There is a tint of guilt and uncertainty in the last few words he utters, Himuro realises it in surprise as well but cannot bear himself to interrogate them. So instead, Himuro gives him the look he gives before a fight; one last check and confirmation of truth and seems to find it – at least some of it enough for short-term relief. He relaxes visibly and Nijimura finds he likes how his friend is protective; my guardian angel, he muses internally, if Himuro heard he would throw a fit. Maybe more a than a fit, God forbid.

Rest of his afternoon goes without a hitch, he makes it to the address Akashi had texted him earlier in the day and the hotel is just as the redhead has described; evidently for the higher class clientèle and thoroughly discreet.

He ends up calling his beloved 'Akashi-sama' to his heart's content and discovers that he might have a thing for role-plays, Akashi too considering how he seemed to enjoy the whole affair, and thus various ideas for such future rendezvous are entertained silently in his mind.

Nijimura is about to wear his now incredibly wrinkled clothes when Akashi hands him a shopping bag,

“I bought a few things on my way since I thought you would not want to wear the same clothes but not have time to drop by home either?”

“Well, thank you. Buying a whole set of attire just for that is a little weird though.”

“Is that so? I guess it is for most.” Akashi comments casually and Nijimura chuckles; he sometimes feels that he could never get used to this, it is simply that amusing. But then he also finds himself at ease and never disturbed at these subtle revelations of just how different lives they lead, so perhaps he has gotten used to it without realising.

The underwear, black dress shirt, burgundy cardigan, and the navy coloured jeans are all perfect fits and though this is not unexpected coming from the hands of Akashi (who has literally fondled, groped, and measured Nijimura's body far too many times in the recent past to not know exactly his size and proportions), he is contentedly surprised.

They make small talk on the way in the cab and later too, as they walk towards the restaurant – when it is for personal outings, Akashi often prefers to leave the cab a few blocks early and walk a bit, Nijimura somehow manages to find some grace even in this bizarre habit and thinks that perhaps he has become truly pathetically lovestruck to recognise and even be fond of such strange details.

“Considering how rowdy they can be, don't you think an izakaya would be a better place to meet up?”

“They are all underage.”

“So are you but you do drink.”

“And you let me.”

“Would you not drink if I frowned upon it?”

“Perhaps? I am too fond of you after all and you are my 'senpai'. Maybe, I would indulge you?” Akashi chuckles impishly,

“No, you would not. You would look at me with displeasure and then give a long lecture about how irrational society's attempt to standardise 'maturity' is and how it ultimately fails because maturity is a highly subjective concept and also greatly varies from individual to individual. Then you would probably start citing some biological facts and variance in legal drinking age in different countries.”

“Oh Nijimura-san, you've figured me all out, huh?”

“Hell no. Who could figure you out? Nobody.”

“Don't despair, although it is an impossible task, you are probably the one to ever come so close.”

“Kuroko too probably?”

“Yes, but in a different way.”

Perhaps it is not a good idea to open the subject of Kuroko moments before they would meet him and even though they have not really talked about the stoic boy in weeks, Nijimura is unsure how Akashi currently feels towards their mutual ex-teammate. Then something happens.

Something ugly and possessive yet inevitable and Nijimura feels a foreign resentment towards the younger man with icy blue eyes... He calms his breathing and wills away his inner demons who have always been too skilful in rising up his temper and inflaming his fury. He could not bear lashing out accidentally and randomly at his ex-teammate out of a newfound jealousy born of a newfound desire to monopolise Akashi.

It is ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous, completely unwarranted, and most importantly very likely to be vexing for Akashi, who probably never feels jealous as such. Not that Nijimura is normally a jealous person either. He has never been so, but he can ascertain the roots of his current state, the uncertainty and insecurity of the bond he has with Akashi agitates and causes his emotions to venture into darkness like this. If he only felt more confident in his relationship with Akashi, in his proximity, he would not waver like this.

He starts to change the subject,

“I still think such a fancy restaurant is a bad idea.”

“Well, I am not too fond of spelling out my reasons for an audience but I can make an exception for you, I suppose, considering how sublime a service you've just given me less than an hour ago?”

As his sentence finishes, thin crimson lips bestow a devilish grin and Nijimura feels both bashful and aroused at the specific wording and the tone; how can Akashi play with his moods and the state of his heart so easily and flippantly? This must be illegal, he thinks to himself, this is a crime.

“Glad that I was able to entertain you. So why did you choose it?”

“They serve the most exquisite yokan in the city. Their private dining areas are much spacious and good for company, providing just the necessary privacy but also a great deal of space for one to sit as they like. Since they are a fusion Japanese restaurant that is part modern and part traditional, they recently added a mixed vanilla and matcha flavoured dessert to their menu. It is delightful.”

Their conversation pauses for a few seconds as they enter the restaurant, the greeter welcoming them with proper courtesy and leading them to the private dining room where their friends have already gathered, on the way of just few metres, Akashi continues in a smaller voice,

“They also serve a delicious plate of sashimi as mukozuke, I recall you mentioning how you missed eating fine sashimi the other day?”

Nijimura chuckles to himself,

“So you've got Midorima, Murasakibara, Kuroko, and myself covered; fine, what about others?”

“Well, they can eat whatever wherever...” Akashi says, his voice cheerful and playful as their greeter opens the sliding doors of their private room in full accordance with the required courtesy, both nod and Nijimura whispers as they enter the room,

“You know Kise would cry if he heard you say this...”

“Oh well, he cries a little too easily now, doesn't he?” Akashi whispers back in an almost singsong voice which simply tickles Nijimura so well that he cannot contain the rather loud chuckle he gives off, which irks both their greeter and obviously their friends.

“God you are so cheeky sometimes... Nobody would believe me if I told them!” he grumbles as he motions to the low-rise table and soon, in realisation of their full company, his eyes grow wide and his movements slow down considerably though Akashi moves and settles near him unperturbed.

An awkward pause and puzzling looks are exchanged between Nijimura and the man who sits across him on the other side of the table, one well-known Himuro Tatsuya. Nijimura clears his throat,

“I should have known.”

“I should have known. Part of a middle school basketball team in Japan? With that much talent?”

“Sapporo. And you have a cute kouhai who loves to sleep, eat snacks, and makes delicious sweets. Wait a second, 'cute kouhai'? Really? Really?”

“Atsushi is dearly cute but I would have to wonder just who the hell you were referring to as your cherished kouhai whom you reacquainted at university?”

Kagami looks confused between the bickering men and turns to Himuro, “Wait, Tatsuya, you two know each other?”

Akashi sighs silently at the sight, he is not surprised at all – he had predicted this as a possibility, albeit a small one; he should have given it more probability since the Fate especially loves torturing him with the oddest chances coming into fruition.

Himuro turns to his surrogate brother and his voice also turns a notch softer for a moment, “Yes, but that is another topic of discussion Taiga,” then turns his attention back to Nijimura who stays nonchalant with his signature scowl, despite being rather surprised at the exchange between Himuro and Kagami,

“Murasakibara is a giant of over two metres who only sleeps and eats, as far as I recall. How is that 'cute'? And–”

“You two realise that I am here, right?” Murasakibara mutters with a pout that looks both fitting and bizarre on his face; neither seems to hear the comment and rest of the table seems to be just giving confused stares.

“And? Why not continue on with that sentence Shuu? Just who is this kouhai who is 'perfectly gifted, ethereally beautiful, and exquisitely intelligent yet he is ridiculously even if deservedly proud and vain'? I truly wonder!”

Himuro's lone eye not covered by his odd fringe dangerously lingers over to Akashi, who indifferently comments as he straightens his tie and motions to their waitress who has just come over with the initial course of sakizuke,

“Why, thank you Nijimura-san, that is a rather fitting description. It is quite sweet as well.”

“Ugh...” Nijimura stutters a bit, not sure how to move forward but Akashi switches to talking with their waitress,

“I hear you have some delicious bluefin otoro sashimi for mukozuke but serve only to certain customers? I think we would like to be among those certain customers.” His charming grin causes a blush on the cheeks of their middle aged server who nods respectfully in confirmation.

This only causes a snicker on the part of the beauty with the peculiar beauty spot,

“Really? Are you just going to decide for all of us? Pretentious as always.”

“It is not–“

“Wow, Shuu, you are that quick to come to his defence? You realise how vain his manners are, don't you? Oh wait, you are awfully aware. How can such huge conceit ever be 'deservedly'?”

“Nijimura-san,” Akashi starts calmly as he takes a small bite of the appetizer served and he is the only one to do so as rest of his audience is waiting on his words than to actually engage with the food, “has been telling me how he craved some fine sashimi and knowing he would appreciate this, I acted a little brazenly, I suppose? Please, we can inform the lady if you'd like to eat the regular seasonal sashimi they serve?”

Himuro gapes at the proud nonchalance of the ex-captain of Rakuzan and Nijimura feels a headache creeping up his skull. He simply sighs as a heavy pain settles in his stomach.

Chapter Text

“Why are you hanging out with Shuu?”

Himuro's question is as straightforward as his gaze fearlessly piercing Akashi's face. It takes a lot of guts to look down on Akashi, Nijimura knows very well, but he also knows Himuro very well and the bottomless courage his friend has always carried.

Often ridiculous and completely unnecessary bottomless courage, that is.

“What kind of a question is that?” he interjects and Akashi does not even bother answering anyway.

“You realise that he is not even answering right?”

“He doesn't have to because it is a stupid question.”

“I am interested though. He is a loner. Suddenly, your whole life revolves around him and he allows that too? How? Why?”

“We are friends, 's all.”

“Friends who are somehow inseparable?”

“Oh you would know something about that right? Since you surely are inseparable from Murasakibara.”

The purple haired giant glares lethargically to his former captain then, eyes spelling out “don't pull me into this shit”, he is obviously bored and ired – most others seem to be as well, not Himuro though. Himuro is adamant.

And they are only fifteen minutes into their dinner that has turned into an interrogation of Nijimura's privacy and Akashi's personality instead.

“Do not even compare the two.” Himuro says, eyes now scrutinising Nijimura.

“Why? Because I'm not like you? I can't have friends I hang out with?”

“Because, he is not like any of us.”

Without the context it could even sound like a compliment, but anyone can read the undertone that is dripping poison. No, when Himuro says that Akashi is nothing like them, it means that Akashi is otherworldly different in a peculiarly terrible, abhorrent way. In a way that is both intriguing and definitely no-good for proximity. Others are dead silent – their silence is some kind of complicity in Nijimura's mind.

All this resentful suspicion, why? What did Akashi do to them? Probably something that really screwed with their hearts and minds yet something also incredibly banal.

Nijimura thinks that is one of Akashi's many talents: not to hurt people by physical aggression or long series of mind games (though not that he is incapable of those – he is, terrifyingly so) but subtly destroy them with ease on the court or outside with just a few cutting words. To defeat an opponent so perfectly that they would smoulder with resentment forever.

Exposing the sheer difference in strength in the simplest of ways, in essence humiliating the other party by not targeting to humiliate them at all but by the virtue of the arrant difference in potency between the two sides. It is the worst – for worse than any vainglory is the indifferent proof of absolute superiority.

Perhaps something more too. Who is he kidding, definitely something more because this – this is Himuro. They are so painfully different in such subtle ways. Towards Akashi, Himuro is probably only capable of feeling interest and respect from a distance but only natural spite if in proximity.

How easy the victory and glory and power come to Akashi and how difficult they have always been to reach for Himuro. How Akashi is almost alien to the taste of defeat and Himuro is so intimately aware and experienced with that bitterness in many ways in and outside of the court.

Himuro.

His beautiful friend who contains more compassion in his heart than Mother Theresa, Nijimura believes. His beautiful friend who always befriends the weak and the odd ones and stands as their guard and mentor, never shying away from any challenge or opponent even when he knows he can lose or that he will definitely lose – always so aware of his own insecurities and pained by them, angered by them, thrown into selfish tantrums by them yet never so completely ruined by them that he would give up. Always so easy to anger yet the fury never explodes in enraged yells, it pours from his eyes in cold and slow drips and in that moment when a certain threshold is met, it will become physical in the form of a punch that is just as graceful as his mesmerising face.

And Himuro never shies away from pulling punches. Never.

So perhaps he should be glad that they are receiving rhetorical equivalent of punches and kicks instead of the real thing.

Lost in thoughts for a second there he cannot respond as quickly, thus when Akashi actually responds with “you are right in that, I am nothing like any of you”, fully aware of the insinuation and accepting of any wicked implication, something cruelly stabs Nijimura.

Because sure, perhaps it is impossible for Himuro to truly like Akashi, who is too cunning and calculative, too proud and flawless, too rational and calm, too confident and absolute... Something Himuro himself could surely be (or perhaps attains to be?), has personality traits to be, if he was born just in the right family with the right winning genetic make-up. It is the subtle similarities and peculiar differences that make them problematically paradoxic in close quarters. They could be respectful strangers from a distance. They could even be good friends in another lifetime, if one or two things in their lives had gone differently.

In any case, it is equally impossible for Nijimura to agree with that statement. Because, no, or rather yes, yes that Akashi is different than them all and Akashi himself has always been keenly aware of it. Why do they think that the redhead so carefully maintained his distance from all his friends even when they were first years at Teikou? Why do they think that he was the one who strutted alone or talked the least or would lose himself in ruminating than bonding? Why do they think that he tasked himself with taking care of the mess and bearing the cruelty that naturally came with any struggle? Always the lone soul. Always the onlooker. Always the oddball amongst the oddballs. The queer amongst the queer. He was different, he is different, Nijimura is aware of this too but he wants everyone to stop bullshitting because no, this is not necessarily bad.

Or rather, Nijimura ponders, it is not bad at all. For many reasons, some of which are of pure necessity (because somebody has to make the harsh decisions), some of which are simply dictated by nature and destiny, some of which are just because not everything that is different is bad. Surely, there are flaws, there are aspects too dreadful and even pitiful, but the same is true for everyone and these are not necessarily intrinsic to Akashi but intrinsic to being human.

So perhaps it is not the perfect answer but that's all that spills from his lips,

“Maybe, but it's not so bad. It's not bad at all. That he is different,” he says, the confused glances focus on him, Akashi regards him with a subtle sneer of sorts and though he initially wanted to continue, his thought train stops for some reason, words fading away from his mind.

“Not so bad? That's because you have not seen him in years. You think you know him, that you got him all figured out, because what? You knew him when he was a snotty brat?”

“No because I knew him when he should have been a snotty brat but he was not, he was never allowed to be, he never allowed himself to be– “ is what Nijimura wants to retort back with a louder voice but he swallows the words.

It feels too personal.

It would be like exposing a delicate secret when in reality it is not even a secret at all; indeed every single person at the table, bar Takao, Himuro, and Kagami, knows it for a fact, they have all witnessed it. Nijimura is pretty sure Takao and Himuro can also estimate as much even if they have not witnessed it themselves (he is still not so sure about how smart or interested Kagami is in the whole matter). Yet in the first place it is not a secret because it is unknown or unseen by others but because it has intimate implications.

Implications that did not exist when Nijimura himself first made that observation years ago in middle school. Implications that slowly grew to be achingly important for him in the last couple of months.

Why has the conversation been revolving around Akashi? The last thing he wants to do is to dissect the very soul and personality of one person he treasures more than he would want to admit (more than he is ever allowed to admit actually), especially considering how reserved Akashi is when it comes to emotions. This person's heart is veiled carefully and hidden beyond solid fortifications and they are not to be attacked so openly in the public with snide comments and judging gazes, but only peeked through the cracks of its stone walls in the silent privacy of two entangled bodies in the fervent hours of the night, between sheets in the afterglow of ecstasy, amongst laboured breaths and mouths that taste like each other.

When Nijimura speaks there is a certain frigidity in his tone courtesy of his ired heart; he is disturbed to be discussing this here and now and in front of all and most importantly in front of Akashi. It is wrong and though he cannot convey just how intimately wrong it is, the coldness of his voice hints at his discontent:

“I know him well enough, then and now.”

Himuro's gaze changes slightly, he seems to be piqued further and his hand to the side of Murasakibara grips the edge of the table strongly, ominously,

“You do? I don't think so. If you did, you would know that he is just using you for whatever ends he is trying to achieve. If you knew him in high school, you would understand. People are mere chess pieces to him.”

Nijimura feels the urge to turn and ask Akashi, “just what did you during three years of high school?”

He would be mad at the series of answers he would receive yet forgive him regardless; why is he so forgiving of Akashi? Is it because he profoundly understands some of Akashi's reasons and he also profoundly understands that he cannot understand some of Akashi's reasons?

Murasakibara simply sighs as he chews on absent-mindedly but it is not really absent-mindedly, obviously some memory has been triggered; some memories must have been triggered because Murasakibara is actually the most nonchalant of them all – he would not have even sighed or taken a glance at Akashi normally, but he does. Aomine has furrowed his eyebrows and is stabbing his food with controlled anger, Kise's face is peculiarly saddened, Midorima's eyes are seething, focused on his meal as if it is an object of great offence and his hands clench into fists as if to figuratively contain any resentment from slipping out, and Kuroko... Kuroko looks pained, truly pained, as Kagami lightly squeezes his hand and there is only legacy of a long past anger in the power forward's eyes, they are laced with disinterest in the topic and concern for Kuroko.

It is not that they dislike him nor is it specifically Akashi they resent (or perhaps what Akashi symbolically stands for – their own pasts), Nijimura knows that, but the wounds are likely to be still not fully healed, the scar tissue is not thick enough, any jab at these past injuries still cause ache – pains of different kinds, stings of various reasons. He feels restless yet listless, put on the spot yet ignored, but most importantly, he wonders, how does Akashi feel?

Akashi continues on eating, unperturbed and seemingly disregarding those around him, ghost of a smile on his lips devoid of happiness, only a gesture of acknowledgement perhaps.

Suddenly Nijimura is angry. At them all. At Himuro. At himself. At Akashi mostly because, what the hell? Why is he taking all this in silently and playing the role of some kind of tragic villain instead of flipping them off and yelling “well fuck you too, I am hurt too, I was hurt too, I was a child too, we all made mistakes” and then they all could move on faster, heal better, Nijimura is sure, just as he is also sure that Akashi is similarly hurt if not more than the others... just as he is sure that Akashi would never admit to being hurt, rather die but do that. Because... 'pride'. And honestly, fuck his pride.

“I would be fine if he was using me, for now at least, I would be fine with that. Is that awful of him, or of me then?”

“I used him in the past, I left the burden on him claiming his great talent could handle it even though I sensed deep down it would not, but I used him to dispel my responsibilities for the team so that I could be there for my family. So if he is using me now, isn't it just payback?”

“I have always known that he was 'the chessmaster', I realised it long ago when we were both barely out of childhood. I find something alluring and powerful about that though it is hella irritating, is that bad?”

“We both know everyone uses everyone Himuro, everyone does, why should his be any more sinful?”

He could give any number of answers, various responses flood his mind and while he is struggling with which one to choose, which one would be the cleanest way out of this discussion, their waitress comes to serve futamono.

It is Kise who takes the chance to shed away silence and steer the conversation somewhere far, far away. Nijimura could kiss him for the aid – figuratively, of course. The blond makes curious comments about the food, jokes about how these little servings will do nothing to satisfy Kagami or Murasakibara and while the latter ignores him the former is immediate in his annoyed reply. Bickering ensues, Aomine joins in on the fun of bullying Kagami, shaking away the awkwardness. Takao makes jokes about eating habits of everyone and Midorima is less focused though he periodically glances at Akashi – glances full of questions and dissatisfaction.

Himuro could continue. He does not albeit for which reason, Nijimura cannot fathom.

It does not mean the hostilities end there though, they don't. The beauty scrutinises them throughout the evening, suddenly Nijimura is stressed about the slight and accidental (or normally may-be-not-so-accidental) touches between his limbs and Akashi's, cannot bring himself to properly look or even talk to the redhead who is sitting right next to him out of the fear of exposing it somehow. Himuro has always been observant, he will catch on it, perhaps he already did, perhaps that was the reason behind the impromptu interrogation.

He cannot even taste the exquisite food they are served with, each course he eats without savouring, the tastes blur in his mouth as his mind races behind various thoughts, Himuro's eyes are trained on him and he can see the lazy and fleeting glances shared between Murasakibara and Akashi, suspicious 'maybe's rise in his thoughts, but it is probably something else, another enigma of the little emperor he will never be able to solve... His mind is so fatigued from thinking, even jealousy cannot hatch – and he is infinitely thankful for that.

It is Takao who stands up first right after finishing the dessert, even though it is not according the etiquette and Midorima is a stickler for etiquette, even though nobody believes the obvious white lie Takao said – something about his sister that he needs to attend, Midorima still leaves with him and nobody bothers to stop them. Then it is Aomine, then it is Kise.

Their tea is being served when Kagami grumbles about still being hungry and Nijimura does not fail to catch how three people smile fondly at this – Himuro and Kuroko, he understands, he is not sure why Akashi finds the comment amusing and not just outright obscene and stupid.

Is Akashi fond of Kagami at all? He had never thought of that possibility, for Akashi's default mode towards people has been utter disinterest with impeccable civility, for Akashi has obsessed over Kuroko for a long time (or does he still? That is one itch that still irks Nijimura and he prefers to not brood about at the moment), for Akashi shares no common interests with Kagami other than basketball and the way they like basketball is completely different...

Another mystery that will need to be noted down and perhaps, one day, one day answered.

For ten minutes more, fifteen minutes perhaps, they will slowly savour their tea and then they can go. They can leave this night behind and he will have to talk about this with Himuro, he knows that much, but it can be postponed. For tonight, all he wants is to run away from these prying questions and suspicions into Akashi's arms, to Akashi's apartment that is always immaculate and bestowed with a serenity that even emanates from the furniture, to Akashi's bed which is too large for an average sized single man like Akashi himself but just the right size for the two of them together... He wants the peace, for tonight, and give peace too – give a little peace to Akashi who despite his perfectly calm façade must be simmering right now with all kinds of thoughts, cruel and merciful, lovely and wretched, self-important and self-blaming...

“What is he to you?”

Comfortable silence in the room suddenly turns into something heavy, something tangible, it is as if you could cut it into pieces and the question Himuro throws, without any warning, is akin to a vengeful arrow that pierces right through it, causing a gaping hole that only makes the atmosphere more bothersome. Himuro's tone was quiet but it is as if the words echo loudly in Nijimura's mind.

“What is he to you?”

When he looks at Himuro, he realises it immediately: Himuro knows.

What was it that gave it away? The fact that his life is hectic yet he desperately made time for Akashi? Should he have hidden that better? Was it the glances he stole minutes ago when Akashi licked his lips dampened with the syrup of the dessert he was eating? Was it the unnecessary protective tint to his words as he struggled to survive the brutal inquisition he was served with? Or was it that the close friends always knew, always figured it out? Friends who were there when your first crush blossomed and also when you had your heart broken for the first time...

“He is a friend.”

It is not a lie.

In fact, given the words exchanged between Akashi and him, it is the most accurate description of their relationship. Sure, they went beyond what society deems acceptable for 'friendships' in general; sure, Nijimura has grown these feelings of various kinds for Akashi and friendship is just one amongst the many, but it is one of them. It is the honest truth yet Himuro's mesmerising almond eye narrows in recognition of the indisputable incompleteness of that answer, of that particular truth.

Himuro pauses for a few seconds, regards Nijimura closely and when he speaks there is almost pity in his voice, as if he is dealing with an unruly and ignorant dear child,

“Shuu, you don't know him.”

Nijimura's anger from an hour ago shows its ugly face once again albeit slowly. He takes a mouthful of his tea but cannot taste it apart from the heat that burns his mouth,

“This? Again? Do we really have to discuss this? Now? Why are we even discussing it in the first place?”

“You know why.”

Yes, he knows. It is because he is in love with Akashi Seijūrō and Himuro has discovered this and is thus the most dissatisfied. Because Himuro apparently feels comfortable discussing it right in front of the person in question himself; always fearless, always taking things head on.

But he cannot, for the love of God, Nijimura cannot do it. Not now. Not like this.

“No, I don't, so stop with the interrogation.”

Himuro glares daggers at him, relentless and now angrier – he has always been quick to ire,

“You don't get it? He is using you. If he is not already, he will use you. That will be all you are to him. He is not even perturbed, look at him. You have no idea what you are getting yourself into.”

Murasakibara slowly moves his hand as if to reach Himuro but by some bizarre reflex Himuro is already aware of it and swats it away, fury is cold and oppressive in his gaze increasing exponentially perhaps due to Nijimura's own seething eyes. When Himuro adds, his voice is low and his words biting,

“He is insane.”

Nijimura is often aloof and distant, coupled with his usual tiny scowl most people interpret this as him being calm headed and cold blooded, intimidatingly disinterested in general; while it is true that he can be harsh and is not soft hearted when it comes to duty and obligations, always reliable and ready, he is most definitely not calm. It is the opposite: he has a bad temper. An awful one. He always had. It was the reason why he became a delinquent in the first place. But he eventually learnt the importance of being level-headed, because life did not care that he was a brat and gave him the lesson in the toughest way possible. He learnt how to control his emotions from storming out of control, he learnt how to take responsibility and bear it through all, unyielding and focused on the goals, he learnt how to show clarity and reason when facing a problem instead of throwing himself to it all hot headed and on impulse, not give into the rage... Yet there are moments his true nature will come blazing.

When a neighbour shamelessly utters a poisonous gossip about his widowed mother. When a random man on the street stares with predatory gleam at the bare legs of his sister and howls a catcall. When a self-important thug kicks a homeless man at the bus stop.

He will flame immediately on trigger and his flame will calm down equally fast but while it lasts in that particular moment, in that fiery instant, his gaze will be murderous, his voice will be hoarse and low, his eyes will glint like the blade of a knife, his lips will line in glaring contempt.

When his clenched fist – when did he even clench his hand into a fist? – hits the shallow table shaking the delicate tea cups, causing Himuro to flinch due to the unexpected outburst, everyone – even Akashi – is surprised, but Nijimura cannot register any of it, blinded by the veil of rage. It is anger that moves his hand and it is pure fury that spills the words from his mouth with a glacial tone of open hostility,

“I am the one who is in love with him. I am the one who has been sleeping with him for months. Don't you dare say that you know him and I don't. And don't you ever dare call him that.”

When he comes to himself – just a few seconds later – he finds horror on Himuro's face, hands gripping onto the table, knuckles white, Murasakibara looking at him with wide eyes – Murasakibara never looks at anyone or anything with wide eyes. He cannot bring himself to turn his face to his side for a moment; suddenly, now that the rage is stilling, he is afraid. He is so afraid to turn to his side and regard Akashi. What kind of face is Akashi making? What is he thinking? What is he going to say?

Nijimura can see from his peripheral that Kagami is gaping and Kuroko is utterly confused and surprised, his stoic expression completely shattered.

He should not have said it.

He never planned to expose it like this or ever expose it actually. They could continue this shtick, he had thought. They could continue it as long as they can, until either of them becomes bored of it. They could continue until Nijimura is forced to find a suitable girlfriend – a bride-to-be – to fulfil his familial duties or Akashi finds a more interesting bed partner or engages to someone for reasons of family business. They could continue until Akashi decides he wants to take a year abroad or something and they would grow cold and they would grow distant and it would end as naturally as it started without even any parting words being said. They could continue until Nijimura graduates and then it would end silently as one of those university flings people keep talking about... And then, then perhaps in the future when they are both professionals, real adults, by a small twist of fate, thanks to a gentle coincidence and nothing more, they would meet again and they would perhaps drink together and reminisce about their youthful follies and they go their own ways and that would be it; they would never return to this point, to this bizarre relationship they both once revelled in.

He did not want to say because saying it would surely bring it to an end and he truly did not want to bring an end to it now.

Here, now, right here, right now – not in the sense that at exactly that moment in the restaurant, but just a few hours ago, just in the morning, just the night before, and the morning before that and... just in these recent days, in 'these days' as they say, he has been so satisfied, so content, he really did not want to ruin it.

Yet when the truth is revealed, with all the shock and the terrible realisations and the consequent disappointments and the unavoidable implications, despite all, it always brings a touch of relief too. Sometimes it is too gentle, too easily overlooked in the turmoil of all the emotions and worries and concerns but now, in that moment, Nijimura could feel it the most.

He is fearful, he is concerned, he is worried, and yet his chest feels like a great burden has been lifted off it. He feels lighter.

Akashi already knew anyway.

Himuro had guessed already anyway.

Who cares what they think anyway?

Who cares if he has never ever confessed like this before, anyway?

Who cares if –

“You gotta be kiddin' me?! Him? Akashi?!”

Kagami is the last person to interject but he obviously cannot keep himself; it is not anger or resentment either, it is pure shock, bewilderment, disbelief.

“Who could ever love Akashi Seijūrō?” is what he means and even though Nijimura purposefully avoids looking at that side of the table, for it would surely also bring his eyes over Akashi, he is sure Akashi is smiling bitterly at that sentiment – he is sure Akashi is considering the same question, sharing the same curiosity as Kagami, and this pains Nijimura a little, if he has to be honest.

One thing Nijimura has learnt over the course of the months he spent closer than anyone to the redhead is that the one area Akashi truly lacks any skill and confidence is being loved. He is so unused to it. He does not know how to be loved. Despite all his glamour, all his glory, all his pride, all his unabashed excellence, Akashi Seijūrō does not deem himself truly worthy of love or care of any kind, even if he does not confess to it, even if he will never confess to it.

Nijimura shakes his head and takes a gulp of his tea, and decides that there is no need to answer a question like that. Because answering it would be validating the question in the first place; he wholeheartedly believes that it is not a valid question.

Himuro sighs, clearly trying to calm himself down and litter away the shock lingering on his face and mental faculties,

“Taiga is absolutely right in that question. Why would you fall in love with someone like him?”

'Someone like him'.

Nijimura bites the inside of his cheek, uncertain how to answer or again, is he even supposed to answer this? Kuroko interjects then changing the subject purposefully,

“Are you two... together? In a relationship?”

There is obvious hesitance and scrutiny in his voice and Nijimura can guess why; so he knows. So Kuroko knew from the beginning how Akashi is. How Akashi never has any romantic relationships. How Akashi never loves, can never love someone like that.

Is this another question he is supposed to answer? Or not, perhaps?

After a pause, he decides to answer simply and accurately without any detail:

“We are not lovers.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Himuro asks, with contempt and fully aware of the answer of his own question,

“It is complicated.” Nijimura explains and Himuro snickers. He actually snickers. Condescending and contemptuous.

Himuro is about to open his mouth again when Kuroko mumbles loudly, thoughtfully and his eyes focused on Akashi instead of the two people he is actually referring to,

“Himuro-san, I think you two should talk about this outside.”

Himuro glances at the young man with the most boyish features of them all, yet Kuroko is unflinching under the steely gaze he is targeted with. Nijimura is bewildered sometimes how the timid and reserved boy with hopes greater yet more mundane than all has come to hold himself so confidently. He wishes at times that he did not miss all those years away from his team mates; only sometimes though, very rarely, but it happens.

He agrees with a serious tone, “I think that's a good idea.”

Only then Himuro concedes as well.

“Atsushi, I'll be back,” he mutters as an answer and Murasakibara lazily nods, his eyes glued to Akashi's face, which Nijimura still does not feel confident enough to look and hates himself for it, just when did he become such a coward?

“I am sor--” Nijimura is mumbling as he also rises to join Himuro outside but Akashi cuts him off, his voice calm and understanding but carefully barren of any emotion,

“You do not have to say 'sorry'. It is not as if I did not know. It is not as if I kept our activities hidden from them for a specifically important reason. It is all right. You don't need to be concerned.”

It is the perfect reply in the perfect tone and what it hints is clear to Nijimura: “look, this was a mishap, I understand, nothing I cannot deal with, I am great at dealing with others' mishaps after all. Don't worry, I'll handle this. Both your life and mine will be just as before – that is before all this unnecessary drama started in the first place. I don't blame you, I have been aware of it all, how it could turn since the beginning.”

It is like a PR manager speaking instead of the man who was moaning his name just a couple of hours ago when they were both thoroughly and delightfully debauched.

Nijimura follows Himuro outside without any other word or a glance to spare at Akashi.

Chapter Text

“Since when?”

“Summer.”

A groan. Himuro normally never groans. It would be amusing any other time but now it just exacerbates the tension between them. The inevitable question comes then, in a tone more frustrated and heartbroken than angry:

“Why didn't you tell me?”

“Tell you what, exactly? 'Hey Tatsuya! Guess what, I started casually sleeping around with my male kouhai from middle school!' Even if you did not know who it is or Akashi at all, you would have rushed to Tokyo to kick my ass and punch some sense into my head.”

“You know that still sounds like a good idea.”

“If it will make you feel better, go ahead, take a swing. But it won't change anything... I mean my feelings and whatnot.”

“That sounds corny as hell.”

“Well you always said I was rather mushy inside.”

“This is not about him being male by the way. Or your kouhai. Sure, I would be concerned, especially with the timing and how... the whole thing is so out of your character. I have every right to be concerned even if it was not Akashi Seijūrō. But it is Akashi. Just... I'll be patient, so tell me: how?”

“I have no clue... It started... out of convenience? Out of curiosity? Out of awe? I guess. Life was frantic, he was smothered by it, I was suffocating myself, it was a nice repose for both of us. It was just fun and peaceful... a learning experience of sorts? We trust each other. We've always trusted each other so it did not feel so bizarre despite being the opposite of normal. I did not love him to begin with and I thought I would never...”

“What happened then?”

“I don't know... Serendipity?”

Himuro sighs like an adult facing the stubborn irrationality of a child,

“Shuu, I don't want to sound like a broken record but you really don't know what he is like...”

“I'm the one who has been sleeping with him for months, how is that you are so goddamn sure I don't know him well enough?!”

“That's not the point! I should have introduced you to more girls back when we were teens... and boys, maybe. What I mean is: having sex with someone does not grant you superior knowledge of their personality.”

“I know that. I am not naïve.”

“What then?”

“When I say I've been sleeping with him, I mean it literally too: it is not just sex, we sleep together and we wake up together. This will again sound cheesy and silly as hell but you don't know how simply impossible it is to witness Akashi Seijūrō vulnerable and bare – I don't mean his body, I mean his self... and he allows me. He allows me to witness it. He allows himself to be so with me. Me alone.”

“Is that how? Is that why? He makes you feel special with a few gestures and you think that is what love is?”

“I wish it was that simple... Look, I don't even know if he'll continue with this... this thing we had, now that I confessed I love him...”

“So you are that certain he does not love you back yet you love him?”

“Yes... I know it may sound awful but from the beginning... Let's just say he is not someone who can ever fall in love in the first place, regardless of his partner. And I knew that.”

“Are you saying that he will never love you back?”

“Yes. He will not. Not as a lover, at least. But all things considered, he will never love anybody as a lover and he is still pretty fond of me in a non-romantic sense... so...”

“Do you realise how pathetic that sounds? You're practically admitting that there is no reciprocity and there will never be.”

“Is there supposed to be reciprocity of the same kind? I have seen many pathetic and even harmful relationships where there was mutual romance. I know it sounds strange, I am not denying that and I am not sure what can such a bizarre relationship turn out to be either, but we have not been bad so far.”

“Physical intimacy can sometimes bring desperate and temporary feelings of attachment you know...”

“God! Tatsuya, I'm not delusional. This is not some kind of fucked up Stockholm Syndrome. Why are you being so stubborn about this?!”

“Because he's not–”

“He's not what? 'Kind'? 'Nice'? 'Sane'? What are you gonna say? 'He has changed from last you knew him'? Do you all really think that he just flipped one day? It doesn't work like that. From the beginning it was there, the roots. For all them but especially for him. Has any of you ever tried to understand him? His motives? His hardships? Have you ever asked that to Murasakibara before?”

Nijimura sighs as if to collect his thoughts and pacify his enraged tongue and heart, his voice is calmer when he continues,

“He is awkward, reserved, and introverted. He was the one who talked the least, always maintained a distance from others and pushed himself the hardest even when he did not need it. Hell, Murasakibara followed him like a puppy and Akashi did not even open up to that giant of a pup... And I knew something was brewing but I was a kid, I had my own shit to worry about to worry for him or others. In fact, I welcomed his cancerous self-confidence and tyrannical tendencies, they allowed me a clean way out, a good excuse to leave them on their own.”

“Are you feeling guilty for failing him? Is that what this is about?”

“Tatsuya, please... Do you think, I who had ever only slept with women he dated would just start casually having sex with a male kouhai I did not even love or see in years, out of guilt? And then just go and fall in love with him despite knowing that he would not love me back or ever want a relationship with me?!”

“Okay, touché... Even though you are prone to self-blame and perhaps it would force you to be friendly with him, it alone would not get you in his pants. That's just not you. But falling in love with Akashi... That does not sound like you either. Does it?! And I mean... Why? Why him?”

“No, it doesn't but then I can be terribly impulsive and unnecessarily curious at times, you know that... I kind of would like to know why too but what has happened has happened... There are perhaps a thousand reasons why and yet also absolutely no reason why.”

Silence engulfs them.

Himuro sighs, his nerves has calmed into a heavy frustration tinged with dejection,

“You... You really love him?”

Nijimura leans his back on the wall of the restaurant and as soon as he does he remembers that fateful night with Akashi last summer... The memories that come to light in his mind grant a small bitter-sweet smile to his lips and he mumbles, only partially audible but sincere,

“Yes.”

It is not the word itself that is bewildering but the tone. His voice comes out perfectly peaceful, tinted with unabashed hope, affection oozes from it, almost tangible, visible. Even he himself is surprised albeit with a dash of sarcasm and self-pity.

“I did not hear that. Okay? I definitely did not. Shit. I really want to punch you now.”

“Yeah, after saying all this out aloud I kind of want to punch me too...”

“So what now?”

“I don't know... I don't even know if he'll want to stay friends with me after this... Or rather, he'll probably be friends but only distantly and any intimacy we shared will be gone. Maybe not. I'm not sure... I mean he is complicated.”

“Yeah, 'gouge my eyes for a basketball game'-complicated.”

Nijimura chuckles with absolutely nonchalantly,

“Says the man who had a falling out with his 'bro the dearest' over a basketball game... And now that I know who that 'bro' is, it is even stranger. I mean, for real?”

“Okay, so I'm not a good example, still, it's different and my case does not involve excruciating physical pain.”

“I thought you punched him over it? Weren't you saying that?”

“Well, no excruciating physical pain for me and no permanent bodily damage for any of the involved parties.”

Nijimura almost cackles but holds himself because he is not yet suicidal, nevertheless his tone is sarcastic,

“That totally makes it different, sure.”

Himuro's gaze is expectant for an answer though, so after a few moments of silence Nijimura relents,

“You know when I first heard he said that – and I heard it months ago – I was quite angry like 'you little piece of shit how dare you belittle bodily harm like that!' and I am certain that if I was around then, I would punch some sense into him. But I was not actually surprised nor did I feel terrified at all at the comment itself... What horrified others was that he was serious and he was. I am sure of that. He has always been, at everything in his life, like a samurai but a samurai of both the mundane and the chivalrous endeavours. It did not terrify me because I knew it would not happen. He is proud and vain but not stupid, he knew he would win.”

“Okay, maybe not at that game, but later he lost... Like all the heavyweights in the league, he also lost against Kuroko and Taiga before high school ended. It is not as if his victory is a certainty in reality.”

“Yes, he lost at some point, yet he still has both his eyes now. He would not say it if he did not know he would win, in fact when his grasp for victory is threatened... that's when he would be too overwhelmed, too frantic to create a spectacle out of his humongous pride... nothing would wound or panic him like facing possibility of loss.”

Himuro's gaze softens at the comment and Nijimura realises he must have said something right, something he does not know but Himuro knows. Still, his beautiful friend replies, all sarcastic and testing,

“You're sure of all that?”

“Hmm... like 85%? Come on. I mean I wasn't around when he lost but you were, you must have witnessed that latter part.”

Himuro concurs but not with words and instead an affirming, silent gaze. Nijimura is fine with that, only mumbles, more to himself than to Himuro, “I am not sure if I am glad or pissed that I was not around to see it.”

After a sigh Himuro groans,

“I really want to punch you, you know. I was not kidding.”

Nijimura smiles at the blunt ways of his friend, he has always been amused by Himuro's unexpected inclination to petty forms of violence,

“Fine just go ahead, let's get this over with! I get it. We both have anger issues and even though you normally deal with it better... This is kind of an exceptional case. I know I screwed up.”

Nijimura closes his eyes and braces himself for the impending doom; Himuro packs a nasty hook that can very well knock him out cold if intended, but his uppercut is not as strong so Nijimura hopes against hope that it will be an uppercut.

He feels neither though and instead suddenly a strong flick of finger hits his forehead and he flinches at the burning sensation. Still, better than being knocked out and having his face ruined with a hook.

“What the heck?!”

“What? Would you prefer me to actually punch you perhaps?”

“No, I mean, sorry yeah, whatever... Why though?”

“As you said, it will not change anything...”

“You could have just not hit me at all then?”

“Oh but I had to hit you at least to relieve a little bit of this stress. How does it feel to be at the receiving end of one of those?”

“Hurts like hell. Not like you'd know. This is so unfair. I never did it to you! Only to siblings and underclassmen... How did you even remember... Jeez...”

“Yeah something about my beautiful face not being hurt, right?”

Nijimura blushes slightly at the remembrance, indeed Himuro is one of the most beautiful people he has ever known... He wouldn't want to touch such a delicate face so rudely.

“Sometimes I think it's like the bait of a very cunning predator... You attract the poor preys with your beauty and they come mesmerised, having no idea what kind of a monstrous strength you have.”

Himuro chuckles genuinely and Nijimura revels in the sound, finds relief despite his throbbing red forehead, now that his friend's mood is slightly ameliorated.

“You're just being sour because you're still overwhelmed by it. Really, you are such a menkui! Always easily captivated by superficial aesthetics... No wonder you fell for Akashi.”

“Wait, did you just implicitly call Akashi beautiful? That's a good first step.”

“Well, he's nowhere near my looks but he is pretty, I'll give him that.”

Nijimura simply snorts at the comment and this irks Himuro immediately,

“You know what, forget I just said that. I really don't think I want to hear your response to it.”

Nijimura grins, amused and deliberately silent and Himuro gives him a glare of death. Finally silence that settles around them is not so uncomfortable, having reached a common ground of sorts, even though Nijimura is certain that the discussion has not yet ended and will continue on for months to come every time they speak or meet.

A few minutes later, Himuro simply signs towards the restaurant's entrance silently, leading them to return inside but makes a small prayer in his heart, hoping that this will not end in disaster for Nijimura.

They return back to the dining room together, sit in their previous spots, just as Nijimura reaches for his now cold tea, Akashi starts to rise politely and wishes his friends a good night with a slight bow.

“I am rather tired so I will be taking my leave now.”

Akashi can see the clouds of anxiety in Nijimura's silvery orbs but prefers to ignore it. The brunette is about to stand up as well when Akashi pats his shoulder, the touch is polite but devoid of intimacy and it is clearly a gesture of rejection,

“I would rather be on my own tonight.”

The sentence is not loud but audible enough for all his audience to hear and tone is cutting, it is said politely but is glaringly an order, not just a wish. Because it is not a statement solely for Nijimura after all, Kuroko can also be meddlesome, he might have already been planning to call Akashi later that night to discuss 'feelings', which the redhead surely does not want to. So he has to be firm about this point to all.

Nijimura simply nods silently as Akashi exits through the door and he can hear a rather loud whisper spoken swiftly by Himuro,

“Don't glare at me like that. I am really not sorry about it. You're better off if he dumps you anyway.”

Akashi wonders just how Nijimura glared at his friend to receive such a response, but taking a peek back into the room would be undignified so he hurries outside instead...

Himuro is correct though, he muses to himself, it would be the best for Nijimura. Not that Nijimura would ever accept the truth of this. It is all right though, even if Nijimura does not, Akashi knows, Akashi does, Akashi can.

He hails a cab easily once he is outside and makes a mental note to buy a car in the new year, it would be useful and probably cost effective. Not that he has to bother about a budget but he still does, for it is a matter of principle and proper management of funds is essential for his future career. So it is these kinds of things that busy his mind as the taxi moves past the crowded streets of city alight in a thousand different twinkling colours; these kinds of things that have nothing to do with the revelations of just less than an hour ago. Not that they were truly 'revelations', for Akashi had known, but you see foreknowledge does not change the impact of exposure in essence, in fact it may even deepen its impact for the words are powerful, the truth is especially striking when it is said out loud and laid bare. He is fully aware of this fact yet in his mind and heart, nothing is moved. The impact is almost none. 'Almost' because there are also some thoughts in the back of his mind regarding the matter, but they are benign and sterile, like a secretary's notes: must pack Nijimura's clothes at home, should drop them to him one afternoon in person because Nijimura would be disturbed by a professional delivery service, should find a new place in the campus to play basketball to not accidentally come across Nijimura, the new path to take when visiting Library of the Faculty of Science to avoid going across the building where Nijimura's lab is located, to stop buying blackberry ice cream because he is not so much fond of it (but Nijimura had been appreciating its bitter-sweetness)... The end of a relationship that has become unnecessarily intimate requires quite a few surgical removals and meticulous changes but Akashi's superior intelligence is already on top of these tasks, deciding, planning, soon will be executing...

All is fine in his heart and mind and he is as unperturbed and indifferent as ever till he arrives home.

Somehow, the moment he enters and shuts the door behind him, something heavy sinks down into his belly and suddenly he is cold. Not his skin, this frigidity has nothing to do with the Winter outside, no, this brazen coldness is completely internal. He feels heavy, tired, dare he say it 'insecure' – and no, he won't dare say it, he won't dare admit it. Thus, his acumen comes to the rescue, he can analyse himself, find the origins of his problems, even if he cannot find a cure, he has always been brilliant in discovering the aetiology of his own (often painful) quirks. With the precision of the scalpel of a seasoned cardiothoracic surgeon, he turns his own psyche into a patient, dissects his own heart to see the roots and branches of the sudden excess weight crushing him and the numbness that has conquered his nerves. He uncovers a special kind of incompleteness and thus a resultant longing he is certain he did not bear just a few months ago.

Is this what people call 'missing another'? Missing a lover? He wonders that for fraction of a second and decides against. No, it is not.

In all honesty, although he would have preferred to spend the night with Nijimura more so for his bodily cravings and emotional peace than anything else. It is not that he minds being alone right now, right here. There is no scorching rain of fire inside him that burns him with yearning for Nijimura.

No, it is not that.

It is the knowledge that come tomorrow, Nijimura will not drop by either. Come the day after, he will not enter through that door. Come even the day after the day after, he will not bring some cheap supplies to cook up some meagre meal.

It is the knowledge that Nijimura will be gone in the form that he has been available till now.

It is the knowledge that by the power of the words, the potence ascribed to logos, the various shades of intimacy he has thus far shared with Nijimura are no more acceptable and their relationship has to change. To what? To whatever it was before.

Why does this shift in the dynamics of just one single relationship bother him so much?

That is when his mind wanders, he remembers.

It was by noon and he politely asked his father when he would be taken to hospital to see his mother, he had been promised that he would, only if he aced all his studies for the week, he had, yet the chauffeur had been out alongside his father the whole morning and once back home his father had not uttered a single word to him. That is when his father informed him of the untimely death of his mother.

“She died this morning. I had to go to the hospital because of that. We will hold the funeral in two days.”

What?

That was literally all he could utter.

“What?”

His father looked sad then, sad and forsaken but not teary eyed, no, oh no, nobody who bears the name Akashi should ever cry or show weakness, so his father had not. He had not a single tear for his mother, for the woman he loved, or perhaps he had but in secret? Perhaps. He regarded his father, his eyes wide and scrutinising, his ears sensitive to any word to come out of the mouth of his father, for he needed clues on how to deal with this loss. How do you mourn? Children do not know how. Children cannot understand loss. Children cannot truly understand death (humans truly cannot and they are the most fragile to this particular form of ignorance at childhood). So he looked at his father and all he saw was a sad, pitiful man who was standing unnaturally straight. The heavy weight of dignity and the need to be strong at all costs wrapped around his small body and he realised that he could not cry.

“She is gone.”

Akashi never learnt how to mourn losses, for loss always meant defeat and defeat was shameful for their name. Yet to be human is to lose for humans are mortal and death is the ultimate loss. The inevitable defeat. It is not meaningful or a sign of strength to reject loss, to ignore defeat. On the contrary, it is ridiculous. It is stupid. It is what foolish men who are weak succumb to instead of facing the severity of reality.

He understands that now, he did not then – or rather, he did, but he preferred to deliberately avoid that knowledge. It is more pleasurable to revel in your excellence, more assuring to drown in your own grandiose – even if it is all fake. Images flicker in his mind and amongst his memories of loss and death, he can clearly remember a particular one that also relates to Nijimura. It is not one of his own losses or defeats. It is not a death he had to endure the pain of.

It is Nijimura's pain and the path to their alienation.

Akashi has always been fond of Nijimura. They understood each other at a level most others around them could not. Nijimura understood the necessities behind the brutality of leadership and valued Akashi's cunning ways. Akashi understood the importance of caring for others and valued Nijimura's self-confident humility. Ironically, they found in each other what they lacked in themselves and thought significantly of the other for that very reason. They complemented each other. It was a silent comprehension too, nods and gazes, discussions never too long, trust came natural which was ludicrous for two people who were not bound by blood or love of any kind.

Akashi knew of Nijimura's family situation. It was a topic he determinedly avoided but that is the problem with avoidance: things you avoid will ultimately not only haunt you but also hunt you down. You will be forced to face them. And he was. His own pain was still so recent, burn marks of his own loss still sizzling when Nijimura had informed him of his departure.

Death would visit Nijimura's household too, Akashi knew then (which in retrospect was silly, for death visits any and all, eventually).

Perhaps that was the reason why he did not hold on despite knowing full well that the loss of Nijimura would make his intrinsically fragile control further tremble. He understood that his senpai wanted to run away, flee from the burdens of leading their team of prodigious misfits, for Nijimura had greater burdens to bear. Akashi's always intact pride supported him then, he would make it, he could take this responsibility – wasn't it his to take eventually anyway? – and perform it even better than Nijimura, who himself acknowledged Akashi's prowess to be superior to all. Then Nijimura could mourn. Nijimura could ready himself for the inevitable loss and deal with its terrifying aftermath. He understood vaguely that Nijimura had more freedom in this matter than he ever had himself but he understood also that in this case such freedom also meant more heartbreak and others to console.

How do you console people?

Akashi has never known. He was never taught.

So he remembers. He remembers Nijimura's back – the loss of Nijimura who had to go away on a path that was to lead for the most tragic kind of loss. And how he did not console his team mate. How he could not console.

Pieces of reminiscence intersect and scratch a tender part of his soul.

So it is loss.

It is the loss of all things that Nijimura has brought to his life. In a sense, thus, it is the loss of Nijimura: not the Nijimura he once respected or the Nijimura he once just naturally trusted as a child. Not the captain Nijimura of his childhood. Not the Nijimura an acquaintance. But the Nijimura who cooks for him. The Nijimura who likes giving massages to him after a long day. The Nijimura who hugs him a little tightly at night, in bed, if he has nightmares and shifts around restlessly. The Nijimura who is terrible at shopping for anything other than bare necessities and will instead pull him along. The Nijimura who mumbles silly American pop songs he has never heard (and always corrects him – 'it is not pop, it is R&B'). The Nijimura who interestingly has a good eye for aesthetics and enjoys beauty in things – in people, in art, in nature – with eyes full of sheer awe. The Nijimura who can be nonchalantly brash one moment and thoughtfully calm in the next. The Nijimura who is never afraid of saying what he thinks is the truth but afraid of hospitals. The Nijimura who is selfless yet selfish at the same time.

The Nijimura whom he has learnt, he has known, he has been with.

The Nijimura whom he has let in.

The only person he has ever let in.

He snickers internally, romantic love, people say, makes one neurotic. How ironic is it that Akashi has always been neurotic sans the romantic love? Perhaps that's why God or gods or Nature has decided him to be aromantic; what would become of him if he was also struck with the madness induced by such an overwhelming passion?

Existence is intrinsically lonesome. We are doomed to be alone in essence, only capable of truly knowing our own existence. For all we know, what we perceive as others, what we perceive as the world could be a dream, a hallucination, anything far from real... Far from what we actually are.

Thus we crave. We crave company. It is only natural because existence is suffering and thus solitude is suffocating. Akashi knows this – he remembers Pessoa, a man perhaps slightly like him, with a skill to craft so many personae, “solitude devastates me, company oppresses me.”

Love can be oppressive in all its forms (Akashi finds especially familial and romantic kinds to be prone to this) and the most intimate path to company, the deepest form for company. Yet good things can come out of it too, beautiful things can be created of it and there are so many ways to feel it, to show it, to know it.

Akashi has never felt that blinding devotion, the arrow of Cupid for anyone, he knows he will never; he does not feel it at all for Nijimura even when he feels particularly bothered at the loss of Nijimura's company. Nevertheless, he finds what they had to be beautiful in its own peculiar way.

They were kind to each other. They were gentle to each other. They looked after each other. They cared for each other. They satisfied each other. They supported each other. They nourished each other. They trusted each other. They argued and informed each other of looking at things in different ways, of new things the other did not or could not even know of. They changed each other, for the better. They calmed each other necessarily. They excited each other wonderfully.

They fed each other – in flesh and bones and soul and mind.

Akashi has never had a relationship like that before.

What was it? What is it? What to name this thing they had?

His world will not end because Nijimura is gone nor does he feel like it could or would, he is not feeling specifically lonely because Nijimura will not be present but because he was already alone before Nijimura, he does feel any compulsion to devote himself to Nijimura nor for Nijimura to him, he does not feel any exclusive sexual attraction to him – for all he knows there are others he finds just as attractive if not more than Nijimura.

It is not what they call romantic love, he is sure of it.

He is also sure that it is still love.

He loves Nijimura. Surely not romantically, surely not like Nijimura loves him back. But he still loves him. In his own way. He still enjoyed Nijimura, in his own way.

Is that so bad?

If only Nijimura did not love him romantically, it would be perfect. Equivalent exchange. Nijimura would not be hurt then; not that the man would ask for reciprocity, Akashi knows that the kind of romantic love Nijimura harbours is quite queer than the most selfish kind that is touted these days. No, his is more compassionate, more generous. Still, it would hurt. Lack of reciprocity is just one problem that brings a million others.

Why is he even considering this? He should not. He never has.

Loss.

So that's it. That's why. The root cause of his abrupt melancholy.

Loss.

Loss of a person, loss of an intimacy, loss of the realisation of a beautiful love, loss of a unique friendship...

Loss that brings Akashi back to his initial state of faithfully accepted and ultimately loathed solitude; the loneliness that is both comforting and terrifying.

Loss.

Unbearable.

Intolerable.

“Not this...” he murmurs, he has had this bout of possessive longing and irrational obsession with Kuroko already, what will change with Nijimura? Nothing. With Kuroko at least he had supposed once that they could be sharing the same nature and thus a common bridge to tie them securely and allow them peace if not a happily-ever-after. It is not even so with Nijimura; he has known, even before the haphazard and untimely confession.

He had known but he had grown so used to having Nijimura around – in so little time too, just how did this happen? – such that he had hoped, he could delay this. This point where things need to be named, when the difference in the nature of their feelings is so shamelessly exposed, and the revelation of Akashi's own lack of a definition for their bond is the collateral damage. He had wanted delay the inevitable end and savour the sincere affection lavished upon him for he tasted things he had never in the arms of many he had embraced, because truthfully he had never looked for intimacy of the soul but only the intimacy of the flesh.

But now his time of self-indulgence is over, his heart coldly aches in chagrin and his hands are numb in the loss of what they so securely possessed just the night before, right in the morning, only a couple of hours ago in the afternoon... It is bleak, even more so than the disappointment he once had for the failure of ever having something with Kuroko, for this time he has even learnt the sweet taste of what it would be like to have an intimately close companion.

To be intimate. Fully intimate.

The other one inside him laughs, amused; that's what you get for ever allowing anyone in. That's what you get for accepting the possibility of loss. He knows it is bullshit – losses will happen even if you accept them or not. But... But.

Truly, the pitiful bliss of his solitude has shattered, Nijimura has obliterated it, so swiftly too. Akashi should not have ever tasted the fruit, no matter how alluringly convenient and potentially fulfilling it looked.

Ah, the humanity, committing the same foolish sin continuously.

How he desires to be an angel instead, even a fallen one than a human whose kind is so intrinsically flawed and ultimately impetuous despite their reason.

Flaws.

Flaws that expose other flaws.

Flaws.

Akashi does not like flaws.

Akashi does not like loss.

The fact that his maturity has been forced to acknowledge the brutal reality of their inevitable existences do not make him like them.

So he stops.

He sighs and starts to control his breathing, soft and in perfect rhythm; he will get over this, he will demolish this obstacle like many others he did before.

He wills away the thoughts of Nijimura harshly and in the face of such determined tyranny his reminiscence submits in utter defeat, his many ideas go into hiding; his emotions, ever so rebellious, continue to stir but he wills his mind to mute their noise. He can ignore this grief over a lost friend, who is perhaps something more and different than a friend. Avoiding mourning is a well honed talent in his family after all. He can disregard this sense of hollowness in the pit of his stomach and the coldness on his hands. He has after all, since he has ever known himself. After all, he was never loved so tenderly before and thus feeling such gentle devotion should be the alien sensation for him, not its absence.

He will get used to not having Nijimura around. He will get back to his previous routine. He will get wrapped in his solitude once more. He will get over the lack of the serenity being loved brings about. He will get past the suspicions and fears that haunt the recesses of his mind.

He will look at Nijimura, smile composedly, make small talk. Just how he has done with Kuroko; perhaps it will take a longer time to adjust, but he will.

He will both accept this loss and reject it.

He will fix this.

When he enters the bed that night he is thinking nothing at all. His mind is delightfully and fraudulently blank.

Chapter Text

The days after his initial rumination proceed with the same tactics of evasion, a splendid calm that is proportionately duplicitous: he involves himself in work which he does not have to, attends more of the incredibly tiresome events various companies hold despite previously deciding not to, and spends his spare time delving into the art of calligraphy but his strokes are turbulent and his mind dull rather than serene. The whirlwind of emotions that struck him suddenly in that baneful night has now distilled into a calmly smouldering frustration under the careful watch of his domineering pride that leaves no room for discussion or bouts of depression. If he was to describe it in a single sentence: life has become insipid.

The minutes that felt like uneventful centuries pass regardless and finally comes the New Year's eve. Unfortunately there is no corporate event to waste time with on the actual day. Neither does he wish to join his friends' celebrations despite the invitations. Hence, lethargy rules his soul and body as he spends the day idly, finally around afternoon he berates himself for laziness that does not suit a person of his calibre and forces himself out for a stroll. On his way back as he passes in front of the grocery store that seems to be still open, at least till late afternoon based on the holiday hours written on its door, he pauses to reminisce. It is on a whim that he enters the shop that is almost barren; despite not having anything in mind to buy, he ends up buying matcha ice cream which seemed to be running low at home (he will not admit even to himself that his intake of sugary foods has increased in the recent days, given the implications this would raise) as well as some vegetables. When he arrives home, he gingerly sets the various foods in his fridge and action leads him to recall a passing remark by Nijimura from weeks ago:

“Why is it that you are so meticulous even in organising your fridge? You don't even do grocery shopping normally but when there is something inside, they are always so flawlessly organised. It is not home decoration, you know.”

“Whatever I do, I try to do perfectly, even if they are mundane tasks.”

“Ugh... It is hard though, when I put things back, I mess it up.”

“I don't mind.”

“You don't? Why do you organise them so scrupulously in the first place then?!”

“I am not obsessive compulsive, I am fine with chaos as well actually. The whole reason why I arrange them so neatly the first time is because, as I said, I tend to do things thoroughly when I do them, even if they are insignificant. I wouldn't mind you messing it up.”

No, he did not mind Nijimura messing it up.

Not at all.

Oh and just how too many things senpai messed up about his life; now that he thinks about it, the list is quite long. He honestly does not mind though; whatever was lived was lived in all its modest glory and subtle pleasure. Now that the initial bite of the loneliness and loss stings less, the pain is numbed and he can think clearer, he is content in having experienced it, even if experiencing it has ended in hurt and instilled a new kind of need in him.

Dare he say it, he has liked what he experienced with Nijimura to the point that he now desires comfortable intimacy with trust, beyond just sex – but he does not dare, he does not dare say it.

Like a thousand other wants of his, it is now cautiously buried somewhere deep in his heart so that once in a while he, and only he, can reveal it to himself alone to ponder but never to actually realise or share with another.

It is not as if he won't be able to have sex with others – his libido has not been diminished and will not be so, he still finds many people attractive, he is aware of that, nor does he feel any particular pain about Nijimura's immediate absence – him not being right here right now is not the cause of his placid distress and thinly veiled sorrow. It is the knowledge that he won't be able to have the same kind of intricate understanding, the same kind of comfort with his stranger bed partners. It is the knowledge that he will not have Nijimura as once he had and instead at a distance of civility, cold and unfeeling, uncaring.

Why?

He snickers to the courageously innocent part of him that actually dares ask 'why', even if only in his mind.

Why?

Because, it has been named. Nijimura loves him and has named it as such, declared it, claimed it. To continue this unidentifiable intimate bonding they have so nonchalantly shared so far would hurt Nijimura, either now or in the future, and Akashi does not wish to hurt him. They will have to fall back into the confines of what constitutes a 'friendship' for most or even less perhaps, a hierarchical relation of 'senpai-kouhai' that never truly fit them to begin with.

The ideas float in the back of his mind like a subtle background noise as he focuses on prosaic tasks. After several hours spent going over study notes, new year plans, and finally some shogi, he decides to do something about the hunger that is rioting in his stomach. This is also how he realises the late hour; it is almost midnight. He smiles at the prospect of not even realising the start of the new year; why does it matter anyway? Why do people make celebrations out of things so mundane? Watching it closely or counting down the last seconds will not change anything about the inevitability of the passing of the time nor does it allow them any benefit for the future or present... If anything, it is dreadful; to watch time slip by so easily, like sand out of one's hands – ultimately, those are minutes of their frivolously mortal lives fading away... At times like this, he feels like an alien facing this species that he is supposed to be a part of and the feeling is oddly both comforting and disquieting.

Strutting to the open kitchen, he regards at the lavish boxes of osechi awaiting him on the counter; they arrived early in the evening per his previous order, but he had been too full (thanks to too much ice cream consumed in the hours before) and spared it for the late night. Somehow, despite its certain delicacy, the food does not elicit any want in him, which is especially bizarre considering the grumbling state of his stomach. He opens his fridge instead. His eyes wander over to the measly amounts of vegetables he has bought earlier in the day for no reason whatsoever. An idea comes to his mind and suddenly he feels a craving for the most banal – and perhaps his subconscious had predicted this and thus led him to buy the ingredients in the first place?

He chops the various veggies in a monotone fashion, somehow finding peace in the even rhythm of the strikes. Sizzling of the oil and the steam of the cooked rice, the scent rising from the delicious spices... They calm him down and he feels the hollowness inside him that he has so purposely and successfully ignored for days to shrink and his mood improved. It is the first time he cooks like this, he has never even learnt the steps or a particular recipe, nevertheless watching Nijimura execute them haphazardly and in a hectic order countless times, he still understood the basics and what needed to be done.

When he sits down in front of his table and takes the first mouthful from the meal, he feels his hunger disappear. Not disappear in a literal sense, he is sure he is still hungry physically, that his body still demands food, needs nutrients, but his appetite is gone. It is not that the food tastes bad. On the contrary, it tastes good, it tastes familiar, yet something seems wrong and eating like this feels tedious. Akashi knows exactly what is the problem here and it is not about food, no, it is not about food at all. His craving itself, he pauses to wonder for a second, was it about the food at all in the first place?

He does not stop eating though, his silent feeding turns into a ritual of sorts, he is thinking but not thinking at the same time as he gracefully eats, not savouring the food at all but tasting it deeply. It is paradoxical. Like he himself is. Then abruptly, his bizarre ritual is disrupted by a peculiar ringtone, his phone vibrating and screaming. He knows precisely whom this sound refers to and ponders for a second whether to receive the call or not. But this is a conversation long overdue, so he relents.

In all honesty, he had given it more chance that the man would want to talk face to face, not via phone, which Akashi actually prefers. So perhaps this is his gain.

“Hello, Nijimura-san.”

“Hi.”

“How are you?”

“I'm good... Yourself?”

“I am all right.”

A bout of silence comes into fruition as both wonder what to say next or perhaps whether to say anything at all.

Nijimura, however, is bad with such refinery and games, his short temper fuses at his own confusion,

“Really? Are we not even going to talk about this?”

“Talk about what exactly?”

“Us?”

“Was there an 'us', Nijimura-san?”

It stabs the other right where it counts, deep in his heart, and Akashi is aware of its effect; it is exactly why he has uttered it. He would like to spare no compassion for Nijimura now so that the older man can fully grasp their current predicament and how more awful it can be in the future. It is for his own good. It is okay if he does not understand. If need be, Akashi is fine with being the villain.

“I would like to think there was.”

“I do not remember promising you a loving relationship.”

“You do not love me at all?”

“I do not.”

“Bullshit.”

“What? Nijimura-san, you know I--”

“Romantically, I understand that you do not. But there is love beyond that, wasn't it you who were going on and on about it? And I am certain that you love me in some way.”

Akashi has to concede on that point, brutal honesty is one thing but lying is another. Sincerity is better than deception in such matters, nor has he ever felt compelled to lie to Nijimura, in fact he has often strangely felt the need to be honest with him,

“Yes. I am fond of you in myriad ways, none of which are romantic.”

“So, you can say it. Say that you love me.”

“This... this is rather childish. What will it change? It will not make me 'love' you, romantically that is.”

“And I am not asking you to lie, to tell me that you love me romantically, that you're head over heels for me or something. I want you to tell me how you love me, perhaps in other ways, but do tell it in all its clarity. It is not as if I will forget that you are aromantic, if you do not add that disclaimer, you know. So stop adding it as a cautionary note.”

“Don't you think it will be torturous?”

“Why should it? Why would being loved by your beloved and hearing it be torturous?”

Nijimura's voice is tinted with bashfulness that would greatly amuse Akashi any other day but his mind is captivated and stuck hovering over a single word instead:

“Beloved.”

The word brings a bitter-sweet taste to Akashi's mouth as it echoes in his mind; he has been called many things from 'magnificent' to 'nutcase' but never 'beloved', he has never been a 'beloved' perhaps... He closes his eyes, a small smile finds its way to his lips but he would prefer to crush any unnecessary hope before more such effervescent words are pronounced,

“For it is not the kind of love you desire. That's why.”

“And not me, but you know what I desire? For God's sake, I am fine with whatever you give me. I was happy as we were. If it can never be romantic love on your side, whatever, it shall be so then.”

“I don't doubt that you truly feel like this right now but it is only the beginning. It will frustrate you eventually.”

“Many things could frustrate me 'eventually'; your bottomless pride or enormous vanity could frustrate me. I could be frustrated due to my own inadequacy compared to you. I could be frustrated about growing old or getting bald, God knows what!”

“They are all probabilities whereas what I am saying–“

“Is 'certainty'? Are you seriously gonna play the clairvoyant now? I do not believe you are sure of it. In fact, I know it is very much only a probability, because you have never experienced it with me, this has never been realised, and till then it will be a probability, never a certainty.”

“Maybe you should switch to philosophy or law...”

“Maybe you should switch to science so you can take that godawful probability and stats course in the first year? Or the second year quantum physics and learn the physical basis of the uncertainty of our very perception of reality? Or better yet, for our case here, switch to neurochemistry and study the physiological make-up of feelings of love... So what if I'm high on serotonin but you completely skip it?”

There is a particular kind of amusement Akashi has always felt watching Nijimura get angry and frustrated in a sarcastic manner, he cannot help but succumb to it now, a quiet chuckle escapes his lips,

“Don't tell me you actually grew interested in biological basis of love after associating with me?”

“Maybe I did, so what? The point is, I want to continue... I mean...” Nijimura pauses for fraction of a second, an anxious sigh is heard from the other end of the line and then he continues in a softer tone tinted with timidity, “loving you, yeah I want to continue to that and that is the whole reason I stayed in the kind of relationship we had even after realising my own feelings and that is the reason why I still would like to continue... if you let me.”

Akashi remembers the innumerable moments he was embraced with all kinds of love that exist out there by Nijimura's body and soul, and he also remembers the much ominous words he once uttered to Reo in this topic at hand... There is a strong pull forming in him and it takes all his strength to resist and ignore this whimsical magnetism.

He cannot bear the idea of hurting this man though; once there was a time he could, they were barely friends, more like distant acquaintances, but not any longer. How things have changed. Here he is now, assessing the damage he could induce in Nijimura's life and how to minimise it.

Quite surprising.

Perhaps more importantly, he seems to be surprised with Nijimura quite often; perhaps Nijimura has a special way of digging up tunnels in his chest and find secret pathways to his heart and steal unknown amounts of the very limited compassion and affection that Akashi holds.

He chuckles silently, dryly at his own musings – it must sound horrible to Nijimura though, a terribly rude of an answer to his genuine emotions.

The anxiety in Nijimura's voice, sincerity of his words only hurt Akashi more though, for he has only ever known the confident, unwavering side of this man; for he has become remarkably fond of this man... He does not want to hear Nijimura ever sound so desperate or despaired; yet continuing their affair could very well lead to that.

“Nijimura-san, I have too many issues and complexities, both about myself and my life. It is already difficult. It will only be a series of difficulties for you. Trial after trial.”

“Do you think I am stupid to not have realised that? I made it to Tōdai you know...”

“Which is a surprise in itself, by the way. Look... Even if you are willing to bear it now, things will change...”

“Things change all the time Akashi. There is no guarantee for anything not to change, ever. I could fall in love with somebody else tomorrow, or you could decide that you are suddenly into blonds and reject me. Why do I have to abstain from what I want here and now, out of a worry for a future that has not come and perhaps will never come?”

It is a sound argument and uttered steadfastly. He sighs as he fails to find a proper logical come back. This loss of words causes his shells to crumble slightly, his intentions are exposed in a small voice barely audible,

“I do not want to hurt you.”

It is a last weapon of sorts as well, for Nijimura has probably never heard him speak as such. Not many people have actually; only two, ever. How ugly, he thinks, to use his sincere compassion for the man as a weapon, to induce guilt, which Nijimura has always been susceptible to, especially so when his mind is muddled by the fever of Eros. But perhaps not so surprisingly Nijimura does not waver, he does not give into guilt nor thus he succumb to insecurity,

“I know you think grand of yourself and you deserve to think so, but give me more credit; I will not be hurt easily and if I am, I will find a way out of it. If it does not work out, then it does not, we are both mature enough for that. I would rather experience this relationship than to agonise over ending it like this now, regrets and 'what if's for years to come... Obviously I cannot and will not force you into a relationship with me. But I want you to know that I would like to give it a chance. Not for what future might bring, but for what we can have, here and now.”

Akashi smiles bitterly, it is strange if he has to be honest – somebody talking about regrets over not pursuing him for a relationship, even his brilliant mind has never predicted this happening with a person who actually knows the bare godawful reality of Akashi Seijūrō.

“Why would you even love me, in all honesty?”

“Gee, I don't know, you are cute, suuuper intelligent, oh and you count amongst the wealthiest in the world?”

“Yes and none of which has to do with why you love me – and thus the sarcastic tone of your voice in the first place. Well, perhaps except the looks part. That might be why.”

“I like beauty, so what?! Sue me! What is it with people attacking me for this... Tch.” Nijimura replies hurriedly in a partially amused voice, then continues in a smaller voice that is more serious,

“Look, I don't know. It is hard for me to say this, so let me say it once and once only. I do not know why but I do love you. As a lover. As a friend. As a kouhai. As... family, almost. It is a mystery how you achieved to become all that; you are indeed formidable. Do I have to know the reason? Is there ever a single reason? Should I be able to express this? Because I have no clue. But frankly, I don't care why or how, because it is what it is.”

Akashi can visualise the touch of pink that must have settled on Nijimura's face; words are spoken bluntly but each one is tinged with humility and bashfulness, he can feel it.

Long ago, he had read lines from a poem that tried to illustrate how being loved is different than loving and they have equally wonderful yet distinct flavours. It had given him some ideas regarding his own nature as well as possible futures at the time. Now, he remembers the lines and realises that he likes the idea of being loved by Nijimura, even if he cannot return all the kinds of love dedicated to him. It is strange yet he finds comfort in it – in being loved like this. Unconditionally and nonchalantly. Generously and in various shades.

The stubborn “why”s of his particularly childish side resurface and something innocent and enthusiastic flinches in the depths of his heart, it germinates and is so bravely hopeful that Akashi cannot bring himself to crush it. The rational and calm part of him that chastises the others for being harsh on himself rises his voice,

What is the worst that could happen?

Years ago, he could have talked with Kuroko openly instead of watching him cunningly from afar and making conclusions on his own about the young 'shadow's romantic orientation and concocting ideas of a possible future that promised a mutually understanding relationship. Years ago, when he needed help, he could have revealed it to Kuroko or Midorima or Kise or any others among his friends and they would have tried, even if unsuccessful, they would have tried. Years ago, when he felt himself sink deeper and deeper into his own menace, he could have shared his fears or issues with his teammates in Rakuzan, they would never shun him for it, they would stand by his side and he would learn to trust them rather than merely acknowledge their capacities and skill-sets. Years ago, when he felt helpless and weak, he could have faced it and asked for help than to lose himself in his own grandiosity...

Years ago, when his mother died, he could have cried...

Years ago, he could have mourned and accepted that loss is inevitable...

What Akashi Seijūrō has never admitted to another soul and keeps securely secret and silent in his heart is that even he has regrets.

He never wants to pine away and struggle to hold down his demons solely over a regret or ever feel an obsession creep up and dominate his sight and insight solely over a regret.

He closes his eyes, he can hear the wind howling in the backdrop of their call... He realises it then, smiling, how stupid, why didn't he realise this before...

“Nijimura-san, you are outside my apartment, aren't you?”

The other gasps a little, pauses for a second and then replies in a bothered tone as if caught committing a crime,

“Across the street, yeah.”

“Why?”

“You would laugh.”

“Make me laugh, then; is it such a bad thing, I thought one would want to make their beloved laugh?”

It is cheeky and affectionate and is meant to warm Nijimura despite his understandable doubts and despair, it succeeds too, for when the other speaks, his voice is much calmer and relieved,

“Initially I kind of thought we would just... go back to what we were. Silently drift apart again. And I thought I was okay with it. Since I always thought it would end like this anyway. Then the boxing gloves I had ordered for you arrived the other day. And this morning in my laundry I found a pair of your boxers. And I wanted to see you. And I thought just... why not give it a try. Why leave it at this. And I wanted to talk. But I didn't want to see you. But I wanted to see you... So...”

“That is awfully corny in a way.”

“Yes. You are not laughing though so not too bad, I guess.”

“Oh, I am smiling truly sheepishly though.”

Nijimura sighs audibly and Akashi smiles impishly and before the older man can respond, he continues,

“Would you mind joining me? I know it has passed the midnight, but it is the New Year,” he pauses for a second, his brilliant mind calculating probabilities of the diverging futures at the speed of light and then he internally snickers at his own need for control when precisely knowing that some things are beyond control, so he decides to continue despite the odds, muting the various results already popping up in his mind and stubbornly grasping the moment – this moment, here and now, to hell with tomorrow, he can deal with tomorrow tomorrow. He finishes with a crisp voice, determined and daring, not to Nijimura but to himself, to his own selves and demons,

“I don't think I would mind spending it with you.”

…

Only four minutes later, when Akashi opens the door and Nijimura comes in mumbling the required words of courtesy for entering the house of another, an awkward feeling has overtaken Nijimura and he is not sure how to act or what to say to the redhead. It is as if he has fallen down into the Limbo and he is unsure what kind of a state they are in or how he should act. Then there are the words... said.

The man he has slept with, consumed countless times in the wildest ways, ate together, bathed together, literally spent days and the most intimate moments with... Yet all of a sudden, after it has been said out loud, after the feelings has been revealed in words, it is different. It is different to look at Akashi now.

Words are powerful, Nijimura confirms in his mind and concentrates on what to say or do next, but is still utterly clueless. Then Akashi calmly breaks the silence,

“Would you like to eat? I made some fried rice, it is still warm. There is also some prime quality osechi.”

Nijimura blinks, surprised that Akashi actually cooked something, his gaze shifts towards the table on which they ate many times in the past and he finds a plate of half eaten vegetable fried rice.

A pause.

A silent realisation.

Suddenly floodgates open inside him and he is drenched with a deluge of infinitely many emotions, the awkward aura strips away from him in an instant, and he knows, he knows now, even though Akashi has not said it he knows, and his hand reaches for the redhead near him almost on instinct, his arm snakes around the beautifully proportioned waist and pulls the smaller male to himself; it is a strong pull but in no way forceful, instead almost graceful and soft.

They look into each other's eyes for fraction of a second and for the first time in his life, Nijimura witnesses hints of confusion in Akashi's gaze, the ever-knowing glint is replaced with a cloudy mix of curiosity and bewilderment. Then, Nijimura's desires flinch and roar, his heart decides to sample the flesh of the man before him in full acknowledgement of the myriad of feelings and wants and hopes attached to this fragile bond they have... It is not a secret now, it is all bare now, and thus the very act carries a different meaning. A burdening meaning. A liberating meaning.

By the power of the words that pledges one's will and reveals one's soul, the kiss bears a gravity it never held before. His lips are swift and aggressive like an arrow out of the bow of a skilful archer; this new craving overcomes the hunger in his stomach, his mind slips and as his lips move he is not even thinking any longer.

A million times he wondered, how does Akashi feel when kissing?

A thousand times he felt insecurity creep up his spine, can Akashi see through what my heart holds through the touch of our lips?

That moment, he does not, because it is okay, as long as they revel in it, it is okay to revel in it in different ways. It is okay if the colours Akashi sees are different, it is okay if their lips tremble under the effect of different neurochemicals, it is okay if their bodies heat up for different reasons, it is okay if Akashi can see him as he is, it is okay if he sees Akashi as he is, it is okay, it is all okay...

Now that he has Akashi in his arms and his lips on his, it is all okay.

Chapter Text

Being Akashi's 'boyfriend' does not change much in their relationship on the surface. They are both as busy as before once the new term begins, so it is not as if their schedule allows them a large change in their existing routine that had already established itself over the months. They meet, often at each other's apartment, talk of mundane things, have sex, eat together, bath together, and sleep together... They do not meet more often nor do they actually start performing things they did not before.

On the surface it is as it has been.

What changes, Nijimura realises, is the way power of the words said have influenced their lives and interactions in the subtlest and sweetest ways. He does not fear risk of an imminent loss of Akashi solely because he pulls him a little tighter to himself at night as they toss and turn in the bed. There is a warmer tone to the calm they share as each do their own thing in the presence of one another; Akashi draws the most elegant characters with the blackest of inks and he revises his latest experiment's results on the other side of the room. Nijimura can shamelessly whisper the corniest things at times even if rare, soft murmurs in the moments of hazy consciousness right after waking from a long slumber or right before falling deep into one, needy requests in the bouts of passion they entrap each other in – and Akashi will smile at these, sometimes a tiny peaceful smile, sometimes an amused smirk and perhaps the redhead does not feel the need to utter things of similar nature, but it is enough for Nijimura to say them and to know that his partner does not mind or perhaps even welcomes them.

There are small things that have changed, not on the surface but deep in the details of their everyday moments, often of unpronounced nature too, yet their subtle beauty pleases him greatly, even if he does not confess to it; he is happy.

Then there are moments he is not so much.

The problem is that there are various aspects about their relationship that they have not discussed yet. For instance, is theirs a closed relationship or an open one? Are they monogamous or not? Are they bound by any expectation of fidelity or is there no such binding for them? These are questions Nijimura has never asked in a relationship, considering how his fare till Akashi has been the most iconic “boy meets girl” type of stories; yet all has changed with Akashi. Their relationship had not started with a romantic nature and thus all the basics of romance were never discussed. Indeed, they talked quite a bit about sex and what they like and what they don't like and spent months trying things out and discovering each other's limits and desires and thus they have absolutely no issue in that area but modes and codes of a 'relationship between lovers' are completely uncharted territory for them.

As if the existence of such uncertainty and insecurity is not bothersome enough, the very idea of bringing them up is very vexing. Akashi seems never interested in them and he might be truly disinterested too, given his own nature. Nijimura is terribly interested in them though and while one part of him wholeheartedly believes that the redhead would entertain such a conversation and be tolerant towards his partner's wishes in that department, there is this other part of him that is unbelievably bashful and fearful about the topic. What if Akashi finds it bothersome to even discuss such matters? What if the idea of a 'monogamous' relationship is too much in itself for him? What if 'fidelity' is simply nonsensical for Akashi and he could never provide it? What if Nijimura comes off as too needy or clingy?

Questions mount and he cannot find answers to them and he often finds himself unsure if he even wants to hear answers to them – the possibility of certain answers is just too unbearable that he cannot tolerate even imagining them... Moreover, he has truthfully never gone through such questions before, it is a completely new kind of hell for him. He is lost and confused.

If these insecurities only stirred up inside him in the moments before he falls asleep in his own bed, alone; in those nights spent by himself in his own home, he would not mind so much. What drives him to unnecessary angst and worry at times is how they act out in a specific way as soon as he sees Akashi interact with anyone. A possessiveness and anxiety he has never held in his life, he has never suspected to be capable of is born within him in utmost glory. It is as if he is waiting for Akashi to leave him, for Akashi to find someone better, for Akashi to be interested in someone else. It is intolerably ironic considering his very own stance to the redhead was to give it a try regardless of what future holds and he had been definitely honest but now that they are trying it, he is constantly in realisation of the nearness of an end.

So it is like this: a dualism, quietly sweet and relentlessly agitating.

This tango continues on through the month of January and when the final examinations start in February, matters of love take a back seat understandably. Keeping up with his lab duties as well as cramming for exams is too taxing for Nijimura already, without the troubles loving someone as puzzling as Akashi brings.

Perhaps out of fortune, perhaps out of misfortune, he does not have any examination in the morning of Valentine's day, which he assumes being in the middle of their examination period will not attract too many classmates' attention. Oh how sorely mistaken he is; as soon as the exams finish for the day, an atmosphere of love envelopes the whole campus, you can see confessions here and there, people hanging onto small, cutesy boxes of chocolate all around him. He has not bought anything for Akashi as he knows there is nothing he can buy for Akashi – the same dilemma, as was in the redhead's birthday. He swears to God that he has gotten the worst partner to indulge but then inexplicably his all-round perfect partner is indulged in the most modest and banal manners. So perhaps it is not so bad? It is just terribly unconventional.

Once he wraps up everything in the lab, he starts getting ready to leave for Akashi's place because even if he cannot give something to his lover (and such a calming satisfaction it produces – the idea that Akashi is 'his lover'), they could surely take the opportunity to mingle, as they haven't seen each other for almost over a week. He is stopped at the door by a young woman of around his age. She has been standing near the entrance of the lab apparently and the moment Nijimura's eyes come across the packet she's holding, he is unsettled: it is a carefully gift wrapped, exquisite red box with gold coloured curvy writing of some probably French brand name.

A guilt is born suddenly in the pit of his stomach; he has specifically avoided Akashi that day in the fear that he would come across a sight such as this. He has obsessively worried at times about such a scene happening to Akashi and things escalating – sure, the redhead would not reciprocate anyone's infatuation, but he could very well reciprocate their sexual advances... He was aromantic, not asexual.

He is so absorbed in his own inner turmoil that he almost misses what the young woman tells him, it is shameful, truly; he would never think to act so rudely towards a person showing the courage of declaring their heartfelt emotions.

“I really... like you, senpai. Please accept this.”

There are probably thousands of men out there who fantasise about this kind of a scene. In his lab alone, several teammates have been complaining since morning due to the lack of this particular trope in most real life romances, yet here he is being subjected to it and realises that he feels nothing. Feeling nothing guilts him a little; it is strange how someone can express their deep feelings for you and you cannot return them at all.

Is this how Akashi feels?

When someone showers him with genuine romantic yearning that he cannot experience at all?

Was this how Akashi felt when Nijimura confessed him his feelings?

He shakes the treacherous thoughts for he cannot shake his head but has to get rid of this whirlwind in his mind that stubbornly erupts centring around Akashi and the intricacies of their peculiar bond.

“I am sorry, but I am already seeing someone.”

“Oh, I-- I did not know... I am so sorry to have troubled you.”

“It is all right.”

“Would you mind having it regardless? It... it would make me happy... for you to accept it.”

In such a situation Akashi would surely accept the gift and if Nijimura learnt of it, although he would not express it in words, he would be prickled inside and it would ruin his mood for days. Albeit, he also accepts the gift – it is not as if Akashi will ever brood as a result of a matter as this; he is not in love like Nijimura is. Thus he must be exempt of all the follies of love. Plus, the box looks expensive and the young woman is obviously sincere, he feels it would be rude not to accept it.

In just one hour, Nijimura is proven right – he thinks so, as Akashi nonchalantly observes the gift box he left on the kitchen counter as he moved to cook. Nijimura himself does not miss the small mountain of chocolates, some of which seem to be even handmade, on the table in the living room.

“What would you like to eat?”

“Ratatouille?”

“So funny. Young master.”

“You received a confession?”

It is said in such an unperturbed tone, as if he is not asking his lover whether or not a stranger has declared their love to him, but no, just asking whether tonight's meal will have meat in it or not, or perhaps how the weather will be the next day.

“How do you even– No. Nope. Never mind. Don't answer that.”

“It is too expensive for an average student to give as giri choco...”

“Really?”

“Yes. About 6000 yen, probably?”

“Are you serious? Ah I am glad I accepted it then, it would be too rude to reject such a grand offering.”

Akashi takes and plays with the box in his hands, Nijimura observes silently for a moment reclining to the kitchen counter, then speaks,

“Aren't you going to ask me how I replied her?”

Such a stupid thing to ask. He should not have mentioned it at all. He should have made more jokes about 'ratatouille'. How do you even cook ratatouille?! The only reason he even knows that the damn word is because he saw that animated film with the same name once with his siblings.

“No, because I know you rejected her.”

“Yes, I did. I should have guessed you would know... being omniscient and whatnot.”

“Nijimura-san.”

“Yes?”

“You do not owe me loyalty, you know that right?”

Was he just denied any hope of mutual fidelity? Or was this about something else? Regardless, it hurts. It feels as if without batting an eyelash the redhead skilfully pierced him with a dagger. Right where it would do the most damage.

“Why would you say that?” his tone is agitated despite his deep wishes for it to not be, he cannot help it, he is hurt. It seems that it almost perplexes Akashi – has he not expected to hurt Nijimura?

Impossible. Impossible for him to not have foreseen that.

A soft comprehension fills the asymmetric orbs but he does not yield in his words,

“Because you do not.”

“Why?”

“You are bound to fall in love?”

“I have fallen in love. With you.”

“But you will want some reciprocation, one day, and if you find it with someone else, I am all right with that.”

Are you?

He can barely calm the brutal beast inside him that roars, “Are you? Akashi Seijūrō, are you? Are you really all right with that?!”

Because he knows.

Because he has known.

He has watched and seen Akashi's face wrinkle in the subtlest ways upon catching the soft blush on Kuroko's cheeks courtesy of Kagami. He has realised the pining in Akashi, the crippling of the perfect confidence of the little emperor in the tiniest ways – most are unaware, but he has. And he has hoped that this has passed, he has hoped that the way Akashi's eyes lingered less towards the boy of teal, the way he sighed less out of nowhere during the day, the way his gaze did not quietly wander away upon any mentions of Kuroko... Nijimura has hoped that they all meant that he himself has replaced that futile obsession, that unnecessary interest. The way Akashi clung to him in the coldest night of January, the way the redhead moaned his name hoarse and dripping with pleasure in the moments of wanton daze, the way he smiled genuinely at the spectacularly unfunny jokes Nijimura made in the most boring conversations possible for a genius... He has hoped that they all meant he carved up this little hole in Akashi's otherwise impenetrable castle called a 'heart' by the ignorant, and that it would hurt the redhead for him to go away, that it would feel hollow even a tiny bit... That even if it was not a consuming romantic love, he had acquired himself a peaceful acceptance, a tender attachment, a lingering possessiveness from Akashi...

“Nijimura-san, you are angry.”

It is a statement, not a question. It is an observation. And it is true. Nijimura nods curtly, his eyes – he cannot see – must be extremely cold, he knows for he can feel the pained chill in his own gaze that lingers over Akashi. It is rare for him to become angry so icily, his hot-tempered nature often acts out his fury in fiery explosions yet when he is upset, honestly disturbed, his whole body and soul sinks into a glacial nightmare, he becomes calculative, ruthlessly rational, nonchalantly distant. He wishes anything but to be as such with Akashi. But here he is, coldly calculating answers in his mind.

“You do not need to be.”

“Thanks for telling me that.”

“I am trying to give you–“

“Space? Chances? Or perhaps pity?”

“Don't be ridiculous.”

“Why do you not leave them alone?”

“Leave who?”

“You know who, the moment I said you knew. Why do you not leave your teammates from Teikō to themselves?”

“I do not know what is the relation between this and that.”

“Oh but you do Akashi, you are too smart to not have realised what I'm getting at.”

Akashi's grip on the delicate box of chocolate tightens,

“It is not loyalty per se.”

“It is some kind of loyalty. You are protective of them.”

“I pity them, Nijimura-san. I pity them. Do you pity me? Do you want me to pity you?”

“Don't lie. Don't lie to me. Don't lie to yourself. You do not pity them! You've never! You just would prefer to think that it is pity. You would prefer them to think that. But we both know it is out of truthful care and camaraderie. It is out of love! But that is so goddamn hard for you to admit isn't it?”

“Fine, let's say you are right, and let's say you feel as such towards me and I towards you as well. This still does not–“

“But it does. I feel loyal to you out of many things, one of which is my romantic feelings for you. It does not mean I can guarantee I will never fall out of love with you. I might. You might decide this is not worthwhile. We are not bound to each other by force, we are both mature enough to realise and accept that, I believe. But I do feel loyal to you, you cannot take it from me.”

Akashi sighs.

Something inside Nijimura flinches in surprise – because he knows this sigh, it is a sigh of defeat and it is extremely rare. But the redhead's stubborn pride will not relent so easily,

“Wouldn't you want someone who could reciprocate your feelings? Like the person who gave you these chocolates for example?”

“In theory, sure. But the only person whose feelings I'm interested in right now is you.”

“Yet I will not return them. Ever. I know you wish I would, but it will never be reality.”

“I know, but you are making a huge mistake assuming that I am wishing you did.”

“I am sorry?”

“You heard me.”

“You do not wish I returned your feelings?”

“God! Akashi, are you doing it on purpose? You are doing it on purpose, right? Because when you put it like that you do not leave me room for nuance.”

“And you need room for nuance?”

It is Nijimura's turn to sigh and pause for a second, he gathers his thoughts,

“I am not sure how to put this eloquently. But I love you. I am not interested in anyone's feelings but yours. You cannot love me back the same way I love you, I am aware of that. The thing is, you are aromantic, you have a humongous ego, you have an adorable heterochromia, you can be terribly cruel... These are all parts of you, some are good, some are bad, some are simply neither, some are simply both – but they are all you. They make you, you. If any of these changed, you would not be you any longer.

“Would I fall in love with an Akashi who was not an aromantic? Even if he was not and even if I fell for him, would he love me back? I do not know. You don't either and do not even try to claim otherwise, I learnt enough of the Chaos Theory last semester to know that not even your gigantic brain could ever predict the effect of such minuscule changes alone. Human emotions are not a matter of simple arithmetic. The point is: if you were not aromantic, you would not be you, and I am only interested in you.”

There would be these moments during middle school in which Nijimura would realise that Akashi Seijūrō, despite his silver tongue and untimely maturity for an adolescent, was indeed a naïve child at the core; they would be passing moments, disappear almost as soon as they appeared, yet the crimson orbs would glitter with awe and profound innocence.

He supposes there are a slew of different comebacks that the redhead can unleash upon him but Akashi instead looks at him now with the same astonished eyes he rarely showed even in middle school. When he speaks, his voice is tinged with suspicion as well as appreciation,

“Do you honestly think so?”

“Yes.”

A comfortable silence befalls them then and Nijimura feels the anger that had filled him so deeply just five minutes ago completely fade away, Akashi's gaze lingers down on the box in his hands, he seems thoughtful. He clears his throat then, when he speaks his voice is quiet and dry but a tiny smile grazes the edge of his lips – that little curvature is enough to fill Nijimura's chest with peace,

“Chaos theory? So you can be quite argumentative at times. I am afraid you will start giving me a bibliography at the end of each quarrel.”

Nijimura snorts,

“You do realise that I go to Tōdai right?”

“Yes. How surprising, isn't it? But then you continuously manage to surprise me. You defy your own rationality and prospect of well-being way too often Nijimura-san.”

Nijimura furrows his brows,

“And you do realise that is not a compliment, right?”

“Why? I would say it is quite a compliment, coming from me; don't you find it special that I cannot completely predict you? That I find you surprising? I am rather fond of the fact.”

The cheeky smile that sometimes graces the thin lips of Akashi-sama makes an appearance and Nijimura is already gone for good though he ensures to not show it on his face – Akashi is too smug as it is already.

“When you put it that way, well... But then, when you start seeing the patterns in my irrationality too, you will be able to predict me just as well, I guess? You won't find anything intriguing, huh? Maybe it is not so good then.”

“Truthfully, Nijimura-san, I enjoy the tranquillity you provide too, hence I am thinking I would find a different kind of satisfaction in that just as well. We'll wait and see, right?”

The implied expectancy in the statement simultaneously thrills and calms Nijimura,

“Yeah. I guess. So, what do you want to eat? And for God's sake – not ratatouille.”

Akashi smirks as he answers,

“I think I would be quite partial for tofu soup right now.”

“Sure thing. I think I saw some good tofu in the back of the fridge. You can have the chocolate by the way.”

Akashi opens the box gingerly then as Nijimura moves around grabbing ingredients, a few seconds later savouring a piece of chocolate filled with strawberry cream in his mouth, the redhead disappears – Nijimura took his gaze off him only for a moment there and is surprised, not sure where his lover went. Aforementioned lover returns a few seconds later with a small packet in his hand and puts it on the kitchen counter near where Nijimura is busy chopping leafy greens and mushrooms for the soup.

“What is it?”

“Chocolate.”

“Huh?”

“For you.”

“You are joking?”

“No.”

“You bought me chocolate?”

“Yes. I thought it would be the appropriate thing to do considering our current relationship status. Though I figured neither of us would truly care for such flippant consumerist traditions.”

Nijimura snorts and shakes his head out of disbelief and amusement,

“I don't like very sweet things particularly. Never been a huge fan of chocolate either.”

“I know.”

“And you still bought me chocolate? Because it is Valentine's day.”

“Yes and yes. Would you not taste a piece?”

He may not like very sweet things but he does not have the heart to say “no” to this offer; he would rather die but say “no” at this point. In fact his heart pounds against his ribcage in rebellion to his taste buds; he may end up developing a sweet tooth if it will make Akashi pull tender tricks like this. He doesn't give a shit about Valentine's Day in all honesty but any opportunity for Akashi to act as such, he will welcome. He moves to rinse his hands but Akashi stops him,

“It's okay, one second,” and he reaches for the box, which only perplexes Nijimura for a second but the next moment is simply bewildering: Akashi Seijūrō, the man with the coldest gaze despite the warm colours of his eyes, gingerly takes a piece of exquisitely dark chocolate out of the box and offers him.

“You are going to– You are?”

“You do not want to?”

“No, I mean. Wow this is...”

“Embarrassing? You are rather bashful like a maiden at times, Nijimura-san. It is endearing.”

The comment alongside the smirk is too much for Nijimura to bear, despite his reddened ears and emphasised scowl, he leans towards Akashi's hand with the eyes of a predator than a lover being fed by the hands of his very beloved.

“Mmm...”

“It is good, right?”

“Yeah. Actually. And weird. It is not sweet at all.”

“It is 80% cacao after all. With premier quality almond.”

“It is really good...” Nijimura mentions, syllables a little slurped by the way he savours the taste on his tongue, sucking onto the little piece in his mouth, Akashi grabs a piece for himself and starts savouring as well,

“Mmm... handmade is indeed the best.”

“Wait. Handmade? Don't tell me–“

Akashi gives an incredulous look,

“Just because I offered to feed it to you by hand, you should not become so delusional Nijimura-san. I do not have time to make handmade chocolates, you realise that, right?”

“So you would if you had the time?”

“Perhaps. It could be enjoyable. These were handmade a chocolatier.”

“Don't tell me you actually got it prepared specially for me?”

“I certainly did.”

“Must have cost quite a bit. And here I was thinking since I liked it, I could buy it now and then. Pity.”

“Well, it costed quite a bit but mainly because it was by a well known chocolatier and posted from overseas. And if you have indeed liked them, we could order it sometimes.”

“Okay, now you must be joking.”

“No. While there are great chocolatiers in Europe, they would surely lose their freshness by the time they reached here. There is this particular Italian chocolatier in Seoul that I am very fond of, he makes these. Since Seoul is close enough for a single day delivery...”

“You literally ordered handmade chocolates from another country for me?”

“Yes?”

“Wow. Showing off much? And all I got you was... nothing. Or maybe chocolates some girl gave me? Wait, that's even worse.”

“And tofu soup. Handmade too, I should add.”

Nijimura chuckles at Akashi's sincere tone, there was not even a tiny bit of sarcasm in the statement. It was absurd. It was absurdly sweet and sincere. Akashi offers another piece of chocolate which he gladly captures by his lips; this whole 'being fed' thing, even though it felt strange and too corny at the beginning, he could definitely get used to it, he decides, as he starts cutting tofu into small cubes.

“What is with people and giving me expensive chocolates today...”

“I did not buy it because it was expensive. I bought it solely because I knew you would enjoy it. How much it costed is not the criterion here. It could have been very cheap too.”

He puts the tiny box on the counter again and reaches for the other box of chocolates, taking another piece of the strawberry cream filled chocolates into his mouth; Nijimura wonders vaguely how the redhead could speak so crystal clear as he sucks on a piece of chocolate,

“She, on the other hand, must admire you but has no understanding of you. If she paid more attention, she would realise that you never take the desserts in the school cafeteria nor drink too sugary drinks; indeed there are so few sweet foods and drink that you are fond of and consume often, one could literally count them with their fingers. So she, enraptured by your good looks, thought that buying an expensive chocolate would cover up for the lack of attentiveness or comprehension of the real you.”

“So what you mean is that she sucks at buying gifts?”

Akashi sighs at the nonchalant comment,

“More or less, yes. You made a good decision rejecting her.”

“Another?” Nijimura says instead, not commenting on what Akashi said.

Younger male reaches for the dark chocolate again and carefully takes a piece to offer his partner, whose tongue lingers unnecessarily close to the fingertips of his beloved. Akashi simply raises an eyebrow at the gesture,

“Nijimura-san, I do want my tofu soup before anything else.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Good.”

The redhead continues feeding himself and Nijimura pieces of chocolate and Nijimura thinks whether they will have any space in their stomach for the tofu soup after all.

More importantly, an assured voice inside him whispers sweetly,

“No, he would not. He would not be all right, he would not be indifferent to 'losing' you. He would not want to be without you, either.”

As most his classmates go on adventures in warmer parts of the world, Nijimura continues working at the lab during the holiday after the finals. His professor is collaborating on a project with an American academic and they have to finish their part before April, which means they don't have the luxury of spending weeks idle. Most would perhaps complain of this fact but he cannot bring himself to complain of it, sure he is tired, but he also needs the money, so he is grateful that he has a convenient job that looks extremely well on a CV as well. His mother complains enough for both of them anyway, about how he is overworking and should have more leisure time as a young man. While he is not content in making her worry, he cannot afford otherwise; if she cares for him so deeply, he also cares for her deeply. It is for them that he has to do this.

What would he do in his leisure time anyway?

He cannot think of anything other than basketball or Akashi, who is also not going to be around much during the holiday. Something about an 'intensive' internship for a project with an investment bank in London to further acquaint himself with the financier circles over there or something. His father's orders apparently. While Nijimura's mind can comprehend and estimate the older Akashi's motives and decisions, his heart can never accept them; he cannot help but compare them to his own mother's or late father's. Even though they are closer than before there is always this distance Akashi maintains and Nijimura realises that it is not necessarily about the redhead being incapable of romance, it is also how Akashi seems incapable of showing his true feelings and care. It is as if he will break if he does, as if it is shameful to tenderly care for one another openly.

Nijimura ponders if this is because of the profound lack of parental love in Akashi's upbringing but he has always hated playing such psychoanalytic games. With Akashi, it feels even more reprehensible: to analyse him like that is to reduce him to an object of sterile psychological interest against his will and not a dear beloved to empathise and sympathise with. Neither is it truthful or useful: conjuring too many hypotheses out of thin air, it tells more about his own biases than reality of what Akashi feels and thinks and how he came to be who he is and who he actually is.

In any case, Akashi will be leaving right at the beginning of March and they won't see each other for weeks; nor talk with each other, probably. Given how Akashi is, Nijimura doubts they will have much communication during the time the redhead is abroad. On his side, he will definitely be busy and thus it is not as if he will be thinking about his partner 24/7 in pining, but he is certain that he will miss Akashi. In spite of how difficult it feels to admit it at times, he realises he is somehow already missing him.

Sometimes he secretly wishes Akashi was into social networks as much as Kise was; the blond posts a picture of everything he eats or buys, at least one selfie per day often of his sunshine smiles, regular blog posts every day about his moods in three different platforms. Okay, perhaps if Akashi was indeed like that he would find it offputting – very offputting actually, God, he could not tolerate that. But it would not hurt to have some idea about how the redhead is doing in his 'busy time' which has always accounted for the most of the time. He remembers Akashi's trip the previous summer and realises how he was not concerned at all then. It is interesting how time flows by and little by little you realise that someone has come to rule much larger portions of your heart and life. It is like a sinister invasion that goes unnoticed until it is too late.

With these thoughts in his mind, he idly checks different flavours of ice cream the grocery store has to offer. He has less than two weeks before Akashi leaves and the number of days they could spend together is even less considering their busy schedules. Luckily, today is one such day and Akashi passingly mentioned a few days ago that they were very low on ice cream at his home. He is not sure how eating ice cream together has become one of their 'things', but it has, and is probably one of the rare relationship-y things that they actually perform. Nijimura himself doesn't have much of a sweet tooth but he enjoys subtle flavours and their taste buds are much alike in their preferences. He is a little unsure which to choose now though, because he is not a wealthy heir and would not want to spend a small fortune on ice cream. Akashi is picky about the quality when it comes to sweet things so he cannot stray from one or two specific brands that are rather costly. He sighs and gives a call to his little god,

“Hey, Akashi, so I am at the grocery store... Which flavour do you want? Matcha or coffee?”

“Oh...”

Akashi is rarely ever surprised or flustered so the dazed answer he receives, normally crystal clear voice now clouded and slightly hoarse, the subtle evidence of surprise in the tone... Nijimura is piqued right away,

“You okay?”

“Yes. Can we... Could we postpone this?”

Postpone what? Nijimura feels like asking, postpone the relationship? It is not even a date. They were supposed to simply laze around at Akashi's apartment. Akashi will be gone soon and they won't see each other for weeks. It is not as if they have much room to postpone being together as it is...

“Did something come up?”

“Kind of.”

“Are you outside?”

“No...”

“So you are home?”

“Yes. But I would rather be alone.”

It is irritating to say the least, but he does not feel comfortable pushing Akashi when the other sounds clearly upset nor does he want to impose his presence,

“I see...”

“Okay. Good evening then.” is the curt reply he receives and suddenly the line is off.

Nijimura sighs, exasperated. Akashi is truly unfathomable and he is not sure what to do; some part of him desperately wants to go and bang on the door, scream that he should stop hiding his hurts and instead share the aching bits as well as the pleasing bits of his heart with him. The more rational part of him chides; such impulsive forays would only debilitate the fragile balance and cautious understanding they have finally achieved. He has to give Akashi space, allow him to gradually warm up to his presence not just in the matters of bed but in regards to the intimate details of his soul.

He looks at the rows of ice cream again and eventually decides that he does not have to choose either when he can choose the middle point.

So fifteen minutes later, he is standing in front of Akashi's home with a plastic grocery bag full of ice cream; he went all out with it in the hopes of showing his affection subtly like this: matcha, cherry chocolate chunk, and strawberry gelato as well as lemon and raspberry sorbets. It cost quite a dent in his measly student income and is probably very stupid, he will have to spend at least a week eating cup ramen now thanks to this venture, but it is the best he could come up with. He is good at taking care of others but in simple ways, he does not understand nor is much experienced in tricks of romance but then he is not sure if such Don Juan manoeuvres would even work with Akashi who is outright incapable of romantic love and sceptical of too many things in life. It takes three rings of the doorbell for Akashi to actually open the door and the moment Nijimura's eyes lay on him, something breaks.

Not literally, of course, but Nijimura can feel the silent shattering deep in his chest.

Akashi looks almost like always, except that he is wearing a disinterested little scowl more akin to Nijimura's than his own usual demeanour and there is this faint redness around his eyes. His eyes... the alluring pieces of ruby are gleaming with the slightest veil of wetness over them.

Nijimura has wondered many times whether or not Akashi ever cries, it is a curious thing after all. He likes to believe that any and all humans cry but the redhead carries the aura of an absolute ruler bestowed with heavenly mandate, someone who would never shed a tear for it would be too human for his divine grace and natural perfection. This is all utterly stupid though, he has forever known and even uttered once or twice to Akashi – that the redhead is not perfect. Ant at times he has even fantasised about Akashi crying – this idea he has never shared with anyone; after all Akashi to cry being such a tiny possibility increases its value as a kink, he has to admit, but now that he is suddenly presented with potential evidence of it... It is not awe or lust he feels. No, not at all. He only feels a profound sadness devour him inside and suddenly his hands itch to hold the other, pull him close into a tight embrace.

But he cannot.

There are so many reasons for this incapability, from Akashi's own personality to the intricate dynamics of their relationship, from the unabashed frown directed at him at that moment to his own cowardice... He raises the bag of ice cream like a peace offering,

“I know you said you want to be alone and I respect that so I will leave you alone. Even though I think it is a bad idea. If there is something wrong, you can always share it with me, you should know that by now. Again, I won't push you to it, obviously. Anyhow... I was already at the grocery store when I called so... I kind of bought the ice cream anyway. I just came by to give it to you.”

Akashi blinks at the grocery bag then to him then at the bag again. For a second, Nijimura wonders if he will be lashed out, but nothing of the sort happens and instead the redhead slowly reaches and takes the plastic bag to his own grip.

“You came by to bring the ice cream and then leave because I asked so even though you do not want me to be alone?”

“Yes.”

Akashi nods, as if in thanks or perhaps for something else, Nijimura has no idea.

He also has no idea when Akashi turns towards inside and moves to the open kitchen area without closing the door. He waits a few seconds there, watching Akashi set the bag on the kitchen counter, wondering what this all means; is he supposed to enter? Is this an invitation? Or was the door left open to mean he should shut it on his way out? He sighs and takes his chance, despite his previous words, because being slightly wilful sometimes won't hurt him, right? If Akashi wants him gone, he will say so anyway, the proud heir is brutally forthcoming with such orders. Nijimura comes in and shuts the door behind his back, walking towards Akashi, who mumbles almost inaudibly,

“You... bought too much.”

He has no explanation on why he bought too much. It is childish, Akashi does not need such lavishness, in fact he is absolutely certain this does not count as lavishness in the other's scale of things. Not at all. Still he sighs,

“Yeah, I guess I kind of did...”

Akashi nods silently and cryptically again and then takes out one of those ridiculously well designed ice cream bowls he has. He takes a single scoop of the matcha ice and lemon sorbet. Then carefully closes each container and places all of them into the freezer. Nijimura does nothing but watch and the redhead acts as if Nijimura is not present in the room; Akashi does not take out a bowl or spoon for Nijimura, something he normally would do, for he is a stickler about manners, especially when hosting a guest.

Should Nijimura be happy that he is perhaps not regarded as a guest now? Or should he be sad for the whole lack of etiquette might as well be due to him being unwanted in the first place? As he measures each aspect in his mind, Akashi has already moved towards the small table he has in the living room area and sits in seiza, while mending and mixing and playing with the ice cream in his small bowl with his spoon.

There are two pieces of used tissues on the table.

So he indeed cried, Nijimura thinks, a small panic ensues in his heart; he is usually so in control of things but he is unsure how to deal with Akashi's sadness or despair. How to console this man who should not be consoled? He is back to square one on that angle when Akashi mumbles,

“I understand your willingness to provide me company, however I am not sure it is something you could empathise with at all, Nijimura-san...”

“Well, try me.”

“Did you know that I had a horse?”

Okay, of all things he was expecting, mainly fights with Akashi the Senior, Nijimura was definitely not expecting the horse to be brought up. He has an idea already why Akashi had dryly commented that it would not be something he could empathise with. He cannot even empathise with the idea of owning a horse in the first place. It is simply too queer. Something he has only read in stories about olden times or fairy tales.

“Yes... Kind of? I remember people talking about it in middle school. Some of the girls actually exchanged this picture of you riding a white horse...”

Akashi's gaze lingers to him for a second, surprised, then moves to focus back on the ice cream as though he is consuming it with his eyes, his spoon slowly stabbing the matter still; Nijimura continues leaning his back to the kitchen counter, standing with his arms crossed over his chest, still uncertain whether or not he should approach closer.

“You recall the oddest things,” Akashi starts absent-mindedly, “but yes, I had a horse. I've had him ever since I've known myself; he was the same age as me. Yukimaru.”

Akashi sighs, a bitter smile graces his lips then and he stabs the ice cream in front of him with the little spoon a little strongly now, as if taking a jab against the Fate and not the melting ice cream,

“He has been ill for some time. We have lost him, apparently, two weeks ago.”

Nijimura has no idea what to say and confirms again that yes, this is something very hard to empathise with. Perhaps if he had a dog or a cat, any kind of pet, it would be similar? He ponders in his mind what to say, it has to be something both affectionate and courteous, but honestly, it is hard. Akashi continues, as if paying no mind to his existence and talking to himself,

“I just learnt it today. It seems my father disallowed the housekeepers to inform me till now, lest it disturbs my concentration during examination period.”

This grates his nerves and he thinks for a moment that perhaps this is the actual reason why Akashi is sad and he would have every right to be so, but then it does not seem to be the case either, for some reason, Nijimura can feel there is something deeper to this than what he is realising. When Akashi mentioned the bit about his father, his voice was almost emotionless, monotone and nonchalant – no sign of fury or agony but like a statement regarding a well expected event.

Akashi speaks again, openly sneering this time,

“It is all right. As I said, it must be difficult for a person like you to empathise.”

Suddenly it comes.

Suddenly Nijimura comprehends what it is and it has nothing to do with the creature being a horse. Surely, his father's antics has aggravated the situation but that is not the root cause either.

It is especially not about Nijimura's socio-economic status and foreignness of the idea of owning a horse.

It is about the kind of person Nijimura is and has been versus the kind of person Akashi is and has been. He knows Akashi has been mostly alone in his life, spent at least his adolescence in absence of familial care or love, god knows if he received any as a child, he rarely ever talks about it and Nijimura knows very little. Akashi lived in a grand mansion and carried skills and wits the adults were envious of but he was a child who was alone, who had a path carved out for him before he was even born and burdened with tasks no child should be burdened with... Nijimura can imagine – can never truly understand for it is a life so alien to him, but he can imagine.

Akashi must have been fond of a creature who was in essence incapable of treachery and always responded to affection. He must have been able to share a kind of camaraderie he could not with any other, the ilk of privacy and confidence children only let their best friends or siblings in. His horse must have been a dear friend, perhaps the sole remaining sign of unconditional love in his life, a rare source of kindness in his otherwise politically complex life.

It is not about owning a horse, or his father's now casual indifference to his feelings; it is about attachments and love. Suddenly, Nijimura feels stupid for not realising it outright; if Akashi had deemed it worthy enough to shed tears for, it must have been precious – the bond he shared with his horse. Preciously innocent too. Something the redhead must be feeling nostalgic about or perhaps even longing in a basic sense.

He pulls the drawer that holds the silverware to take out a spoon for himself and then moves over towards Akashi, settles on the floor, right next to him comfortably. Their shoulders touch slightly. He moves in and grabs a spoonful of the half melted ice cream, Akashi regards him with confusion for a second; Nijimura is not used to seeing confusion in the crimson orbs but finds it loveable all the same.

“So,” he starts, “tell me about him”.

“About whom?”

“About your horse.”

Akashi's eyes grow large in realisation and his previously frigid features slowly fade into tenderness,

“I am not sure... what I could tell you.”

Nijimura takes another spoonful of what is now more of a milkshake than ice cream and manages to push some towards the spoon Akashi holds, still fiddling with the dessert than to eat it, though taking the gesture as a cue he reservedly takes a bit to his spoon and motions it to his mouth.

“Anything. Why 'Yukimaru', for example? Because he was white?”

“Yes. He was also apparently born on a snowy day. My mother gave him the name...”

The tenderness in his expression seeps into his gaze finally then, Nijimura can see the pure affection his eyes glint with as he mentions his mother, even passingly. It is terribly charming and very intriguing but Nijimura keeps his composure and is delighted to see Akashi take another spoonful from the ice cream they have come to share,

“It is a nice name. Kinda guessed it wasn't you who named him. If it was left to you it would be something like... 'Divine Ruler of Winter'? Or maybe 'Pegasus of the Crimson Emperor'?”

Akashi almost chuckles – 'almost', for his lips curve into a tiny smile of sorts and there is a peculiar “heh” sound he gives, albeit quietly. That is the most he could elicit probably given the other's mood, so Nijimura is more than happy with this much.

“I don't think I would use either of those, ever... But yes, I presume, if I had named him it could have been something more... imperious? Instead of 'Yukimaru'.”

“Do you have any pictures?”

Akashi reaches for his phone on the other side of the table and after a few swipes offers the phone to Nijimura, who takes it in his hand absent-mindedly as he continues to savour the ice cream.

“He looks cool.”

“'Cool'?”

“Hmm... Okay, fine, graceful?”

Akashi leans and swipes to another picture, it is an older one, from first year of high school probably, he is on the horse and posing dignified, prim and proper, like a military officer in a vintage photograph. Nijimura is amused,

“Definitely graceful. Do you have any from your childhood?”

There have been numerous times he fantasised a bashful Akashi, blushing and timid, but he never really imagined it would happen when they are in a poignant mood chatting about Akashi's deceased horse. Still, it is as magnificent as he has imagined it; the delightful pink which graces Akashi's cheeks accentuates the delicate facial features, his lips suddenly look innocently alluring rather than the usual fatal attraction they hold... There is a peculiar shyness in the way he quickly turns away his gaze somewhere else in the room right after swiping a couple of times to show Nijimura an old picture.

It was probably taken by a film camera and then digitalised; this is evident from the effect and the tones and Nijimura is certain that Akashi would rather die but apply some instagram filter on this picture, for this picture must be precious – he can ascertain as much the moment his eyes meet it.

Akashi is a child in the picture, perhaps aged six or seven at most, on the same horse from before yet neither the horse nor he hold the same captivating but distant royal grace. Instead, he is smiling cheerfully, beaming with joy and leaning onto the horse's mane and rubbing his own cheek to the soft hair. He has never seen Akashi smile as he did in the photograph. It is honest, unabashed, willing, and open. It is careless. It is happy. It is beautiful.

It is the most beautiful thing Nijimura has ever seen.

There is also a woman near Akashi and the horse in the photograph, she seems to be giggling or so, her lips merrily curved up and slightly open in a smile, her features strikingly similar to Akashi's.

“Is she your mother?” Nijimura asks softly but without waiting for an answer he adds,

“She is beautiful.”

Akashi's gaze turns to him then, tender and content even if the sadness has not faded away from his features (nor has Nijimura expected it would, he is satisfied in a strange way now to see this side of the redhead, if anything), then Akashi leans in a little, resting his head on his lover's shoulder softly.

“She was. She was beautiful.”

“You look like her.”

A small smile of appreciation entangles itself to the crimson lips and Nijimura shifts closer to him,

“Is there more? From your childhood?”

Akashi nods and takes the phone back, swiping back and forth as Nijimura grabs the bowl of ice cream that mostly holds a melted cold soup of sorts now; it is not much of a problem for him though, so he continues eating as Akashi shows him different pictures and at times he offers a spoonful to the redhead, who takes it to his mouth without any complaint. They sit there silently, making only a few comments now and then, going through pictures, after some time Nijimura shows a few of his own family too. The hours pass easily, calmly as they revel peacefully in the warmth of each other.

When they go to bed later, it is equally silent, equally serene... Equally warm as they fall asleep in each other's embrace.

It is one of the most beautiful nights of Nijimura Shūzō's life, even if it is not the happiest one.

Chapter Text

London is foggy, rainy, and cold.

He wakes up at 6 am, starts working at 7 am, takes a break for an hour at around 12 pm, then continues working until 7 or 8 pm depending on where he is with his tasks. Akashi is accurately aware that he does not have to work so much, even without such an effort he could easily rise above not just his colleagues but his so-called 'superiors' at the office as well; it has always been like this, at school or sports or any function he has ever tried.

He prefers it though. He has always preferred being dutiful and hard-working over being lazy; it is intricately ironic too for he finds at least a good number of his diverse psychological issues are rooted in his overachieving character yet at the same time the only safety net he has from drowning in existential turmoil is actually being dutiful and hard-working. It is a cycle, an infinite loop only made finite by the fact that his existence is finite.

He could have rebelled to his father who so staunchly desired a cunning and old-fashioned 'Prince', straight out of Machiavelli's book, as a heir. He could have become one of those “Rich Kids of Instagram”, uselessly and aimlessly revel in the riches he has been born into, refuse any responsibility and forever numb his too-brilliant mind with extravagance such that he would not feel so burdened... Or perhaps, he could become one of those self-righteous hipster heirs, 'dedicate' himself to a good cause or something, spend three months every year somewhere in Africa and become a world renown 'guardian angel' of the poor and unfortunate, while continuing on with his otherwise lavish lifestyle and spending his corporation's not-so-righteously-earned money freely... Best of the both worlds, really.

The problem is, he simply cannot. Despite knowing the futility of mortal life itself and always aware of some kind of innate nihilism, he can never give in, especially not through such senseless exorbitance. There is a part of him resiliently idealistic despite his overall dominating realism and when it comes to his habits and lifestyle the former interestingly overrules the latter, even though micro-decisions of his everyday life are handled almost always by the latter.

(No wonder his mind loves concocting various persona. It is an organised chaos inside there, all fractured and compartmentalised.)

So he works.

He works about twelve hours a day, if not more, and relishes in working so much not because he necessarily sees virtue in working itself, but he sees a great distraction from the miseries of existence, and the virtuous part is in not losing himself to mindless hedonism. There are times his colleagues, all of whom are much older, invite him out. He accepts such offers for dinner about once a week to maintain an aura of approachability, but he always rejects offers for drinking with vague reasons that will not leave an impression of prudery but also not of asocial frigidity. Obviously, it is not that he does not drink, in fact he has found a few nice pubs in the city and enjoyed them quite a bit. Life, overall, is not so bad, he can go watch opera during weekends or take walks in the old quarters of the city, savouring the history that seems to always sooth him. History is a stunning thing, both flatters and humbles one. He enjoys it.

He does not necessarily miss Nijimura.

He has been too busy to do that. His surroundings too interesting to remember home just yet. He never even sends Nijimura a message or honestly realises any need for it, nor reminisces about his raven haired lover thousands of kilometres away... at least until near the end of his second week in London. It happens so casually too: one Saturday afternoon he realises a craving for authentic Japanese food, the homesickness finally showing itself subtly, and thus he ventures to the most renowned traditional Japanese restaurant in the city. Being an international hub, London is great when it comes to food and given that he has no concerns on expenditure, he can taste anything he likes and they are all exquisite. The food he eats, course by course, only seems to get better and he is taken by how both the ingredients and the ambience follow the traditions perfectly. However, amidst eating, a nagging sense of disparity appears in the back of his mind and it actually takes him a while why he is feeling as though something about his food is distinctly imperfect. Because it certainly should not be.

This discrepancy between his logic and senses... it is bizarre.

However, his neurons are never lazy nor deficient in deciphering his enigmatic emotional constitution; it is often what to do with the extracted results that he can be lazy about, but not the actual process of troubleshooting. Thus, it takes him only a few seconds to realise what is specifically imperfect.

Nothing.

Nothing is specifically imperfect, on the contrary, it is the fact that the food is especially perfect that has pestered his senses.

Nijimura Shūzō is a decent cook by all means, but he is no chef. He is someone who learnt how to cook simply to aid the survival of his family, thus his culinary abilities are haphazard and practical than refined. Missing or unnecessarily added ingredients are the norm, recipes never well-defined and devised on the fly, end-results often presented in the most crude manner without much thought into making it look 'pretty'... Yet perhaps for the same reasons, for the very reason that he initially learnt to cook to feed the ones he loved the most, there is an undeniable tenderness that somehow seeps into the taste of the things he creates. He cooks the same recipes differently each time and thus every single serving is unique and uniquely his. His moods add flavouring to every dish he serves too; if he is nervous or upset they are a bit saltier, if he is sad or brooding they are a little lacking in salt... Akashi can tell his mood by simply taking a taste of the meal placed in front of him.

Then there is the talk.

Akashi has always known that consuming food is not simply for bodily sustenance for humans – no, the human species is admittedly much more complex and turns the most basic aspect of being an organism into something that is beyond that: it is cultural, it is artful, it is social, it is emotional... It is intimate at times. Dearly intimate. But knowing something, recognising a specific phenomenon via sharp perception is a lot different than actually experiencing it. Akashi never experienced it before.

For so many years, he had his dinners alone. In those rare evenings he had dinner with his father, the conversations are sterile and distant, even if they talk of things that are supposed to be beautiful, like a new ancient vase bought for the hallway, or discuss intellectual subjects, just as the food they consume, their conversations are perhaps exquisite in quality or content but always devoid of any emotion. It is forced socialising and perhaps for anyone else it would be painful but Akashi realises that by now he has mostly become desensitised to it; if anything, it is only tedious, but not instigating of any ache.

Thus, at the beginning with Nijimura, it was rather strange that he talked during meals. But usually the topics were and are of such mundane things and Nijimura's existence itself has never truly vexed him that the whole development had come natural to him quickly. Perhaps, there was more to it; perhaps, his human nature betrayed him and he was instinctively inclined to turn eating into a socialising of sorts, but this time not forced, not to exchange status updates but to candidly connect with one another, find comfort in the simplicity of the quotidian affairs...

Too many “perhaps”es fly around in his mind as they invariably do whenever the topic is Nijimura; he thought he understood the man perfectly well by now, his mind capable of calculating queries regarding his former captain with exceptional efficacy. Yet, there is forever a mystery attached to the man and to everything he does and to everything he induces in Akashi... and most important of all, how to deal with these feelings and attachments and yearnings he instils in Akashi? Generating probabilities is one thing, being able to see which one would come to fruition is another thing, then it is an altogether different issue to actually be able to handle the outcome.

He has always mastered this art yet when it is Nijimura, he finds himself second-guessing more and more and even revelling in the unexpected outbursts and unpredictable occurrences at times.

Still, as he walks to the expensive hotel suite he is staying in London, in a dreary night of March, the weather not cold enough to be winter nor warm enough to be spring, he is profoundly aware that he has missed eating Nijimura's cooking and chatting up with him as they ate, yet this awareness is not causing any chagrin at all in his ego. He is sure just three or four months ago such a realisation would displease him to say the least, because he has never liked getting used to things, especially changes in his private life, and has always been very cynical about habits of comfort and affection. Somehow, now it does not pull a single nerve in his body or push any panic button in his mind; it is almost taken for granted. Perhaps, he should be scared of this in itself, that he has disarmed himself to this degree, but then he has never been one to be easily scared, so it should not be surprising that he is not now either.

Where are they going with this? With 'this' that he cannot even identify yet, a relationship for sure, a loving one too definitely, yet what kind of love? What kind of a relationship?

Just as the question is asked in his mind, he realises how he utterly does not care at this point.

This is interesting; this, he finds truly interesting.

His cold fingers grasp the phone in his pocket and taking it out they have already started swiping from muscle memory and soon he is writing a text message to Nijimura. It is too early in Tokyo, so he is surely asleep, but he can always take a look at the message in the morning. It is only after he types out and sends the short message, “I would like to have nabe when I am back in Tokyo”, he realises how uncharacteristic of him it is to ask for favours like this.

Because even though it sounds like a command, it is not, and that is precisely the atypical part: Akashi Seijūrō does not ask for favours, appeal for things. He has been brought up to either command or require and be fulfilled. The social implication of this is that he never asks for friends for socialising, unless it is a command that serves a specific purpose or a requisite due to etiquette. He has spent most his school festivities alone for that matter, others would huddle and he would attend out of courtesy if invited, but he never invited anyone specifically, again, unless civility required it or there was a tangible end to order such an invitation. Fortunately or unfortunately perhaps all his life there have been people who did not care for this well calculated distance at all; Reo, especially, continuously tipped it around its boundaries and played with it. Reo is probably one of the rare people he ever demands things from, not as orders of execution but as favours, as friendly wants or perhaps even caprices.

Then there is Nijimura now, with whom he can demand things – intimate things, familiar things, mundane things, bizarre things, any and all kinds of things so easily. At the beginning, it was mainly within the domain of sex and made sense too; sex, being a dialogue, necessitated it. As their attachment grew out of the bounds of sensuality, as new commitments and affinities were born, demanding from Nijimura became as natural as eating alongside him.

It is similarly curious and peaceful.

He is not expecting the silent vibration of his phone as he is putting it back into his pocket but it is not as if Fate always relents to his expectations; to his surprise, it seems Nijimura is not sleeping.

[From: Nijimura-san]

[“Nabe? with just 2 ppl? rlly?”]

He chuckles quietly as he taps on the virtual keyboard, “I did not know there was a minimum threshold of companions required for nabe, but if you would like more people, we could always invite our ex-teammates.”

It takes only a few seconds for Nijimura to reply,

[From: Nijimura-san]

[“hell no, how am i gonna fit all those huge dudes in my tiny apt?!”]

[To: Nijimura-san]

[“If that is your concern, fret not, I would not mind hosting you all in my house.”]

[From:Nijimura-san]

[“u can't be serious, do u know how much they'll mess up ur place?]

[To: Nijimura-san]

[“I have a housekeeper just for that reason.”]

[From: Nijimura-san]

[“ok fine but how are we gonna bear it all night? not a restaurant, can't just leave when we had enough of Kise's tantrums or power forward ego showdown between aho n baka duo”]

[To: Nijimura-san]

[“You have a point there. I am afraid we will have to do this with just the two of us then.”]

[From: Nijimura-san]

[“hmm sucks huh? but yeah I guess so too.”]

Akashi chuckles earnestly again into the chilly breeze, he assumes conversation to end at that point. He does not even ask why Nijimura is awake, it is 98% probable that his dutiful senpai had to stay late for work and could not sleep afterwards, it happens sometimes even when he comes to Akashi's place, at such times he will just spoon and watch Akashi's face in bed – knowing this, being watched liked that somehow gratifies Akashi. He has never been watched in his sleep by anyone other than his mother during childhood, he is conscious about such vulnerable moments normally but there is no threat that could come from Nijimura and there is a subtle satisfaction in being showered with such a tender gaze. An unknown peace is roused, feelings of security blooming under such a careful watch. Thus he lets it be, much uncharacteristically.

If Reo heard these, they would throw a fit and claim that it is precisely because he is allowing Nijimura this exceptional access that he is giving Nijimura a chance to hurt him.

And Reo would be right in that, his mind considers for a moment, for the same logical reason he has kept himself away from others so long; he watches others intimately but never allows other way around. Abruptly his phone vibrates – for some reason, he relishes in this little mishap of calculation on his part again, instead of being irked by it.

[From: Nijimura-san]

[“hey akashi, you're doin fine right?”]

He did not call or inform Nijimura when he landed in London, because... why would he need to? If something had happened to his plane, it would be all over the news anyway; plane crashes are still rare enough to make it into news every time they occur. His father had never required him to make such calls in the many trips he took even as a child. He did not call Nijimura or text him at all since he reached London, because... why should he need to? It is not as if Nijimura's existence is insignificant to him, if he has to be honest, perhaps the raven haired man has recently become one of the most significant human beings for him. But it is one thing to feel affection for someone, even yearning for them at times, but it is an altogether different thing what that affection is and how it plays out, how that yearning is codified and acts out.

It is different.

The way they are is ultimately different; it is just a simple message but he can clearly see the multitude of concerns and longings buried beneath it silently and knowingly.

He sighs and feels a little guilty; not because Nijimura blames him or would ever blame him; in fact, knowing to have caused guilt would probably lead Nijimura to blame himself. Still, for a person with acute awareness of things and people around him, Akashi should have deduced and acted accordingly, even if his emotional make-up does not require it, Nijimura's does and a relationship is not about one person's needs. That is mostly why people form relationships based on mutual needs and pay attention to reciprocity. That is mostly why Akashi and Nijimura's relationship is doomed to fail, probably.

But what is Akashi Seijūrō if not a freak of nature, a supranatural probability that should not exist in the first place, at all? What is he, if not a delusionally vain creature daring Fate and defying the intrinsic frailty of his species?

Thus as he types out his next message, he is not scared of probable futures, or concerned, or self-blaming, instead smiling and making adjustment to his future travel habits,

[To: Nijimura-san]

[“I am fine, thank you. I hope you are doing well as well.”]

[From: Nijimura-san]

[“yea i'm fine. cool then, i'll just try to sleep.”]

He does not even think a moment or pause before he types “Sweet Dreams” and hits send. He does not receive any response for it, as expected, Nijimura can be awfully sappy in his outbursts and unbelievably aloof (or in desperate need to maintain aloofness) rest of the time.

If he was in Tokyo and they were in bed, Akashi would turn after uttering the endearing sentence and let sleep slowly invade, Nijimura would likely say nothing but whisper it in a mumble later on, when he is half-sure Akashi would probably not hear it.

Akashi would hear it though. He has heard it countless times. Suddenly, he feels that it wouldn't be bad to be in Tokyo now, in bed with Nijimura and play that small game of awkward displays of affection.

He is sure it will leave his mind come morning as he delves into work, it will not flood him or bring agony, but for that moment it is a nice yearning; not a consuming fire but a peaceful and alluring thought.

Is this enough?

He wonders, can yearning of this kind match yearning of another kind?

Would it be enough to sustain a relationship of such carefully acknowledged imbalance?

He is not sure of the answer and his brain is stubborn to actually process the probabilities this time, something inside him snickers – that one, that particular one is a pitiful person yet he has forever been a master as snickering. Akashi does not mind though. Not now.

As the cold breeze, the wintry remnants in the early spring embrace his face and body cruelly, he tucks his face into his scarf a little more and quickens his steps. He is certain that he does not mind the snickering, nor the fragility that is proved by his rejection of any advance calculation this time. There is a seed of hope inside him that is powerfully resilient and he is comforted by its resolute serenity.

Akashi returns only four days before the start of the new term. Nijimura has successfully wrapped up his work before then as he had planned, hoping to spend some more time with the redhead before the beginning of another torturous year in academia. He has missed Akashi but it is hard to express this, still fearful that exposing such yearnings which likely do not have correspondence in Akashi's heart could rattle the fragile and intricate dynamic they sustain. It was not surprising, for that matter, how the heir did not bother calling or messaging him for over a week after his departure; it was, however, blissfully surprising that he started sending a message or two once every few nights or so later on.

Did something happen to Akashi? Did he miss Nijimura too, perhaps? Is it even possible, for Akashi to miss someone? If so, how does he really miss others? Is it in any way similar to what Nijimura felt or is it something different?

He has no answers to such questions and is often deliberately ignorant of them, for asking them could lead to further inquiries that are less savoury and full of tension. He does not want tension now, he wants peace. He wants Akashi to come back home. He wants to wrap his arms around Akashi. He wants to feed Akashi with the meagre culinary skills he possesses, watch films together while eating ice cream and listen the redhead turn into a professional film critic of sorts, take a bath together and see their skin flush from the heat of the water and their eyes to daze in the steam and from the thirst that water and nudity always brought along...

The simplest things, he longs for, but such mundane affairs are never boring and almost surreal in Akashi's company. This, he believes, is the effect of love; however corny it sounds.

In an attempt to introduce some normalcy to their relationship as well as thinking that Akashi has probably missed some authentic Japanese food, he invites him for dinner at a relatively upscale restaurant soon after Akashi's arrival. It will cost Nijimura a whole week's worth of pay and is a nonsensical move considering Akashi's wealth, but he finds comfort in the idea that despite all the disparity between them materially and immaterially, it is something that they would both enjoy and thus, why not?

The moment offer is made and courteously accepted through a phone call though, he can feel a nagging sense of something is wrong. The feeling only intensifies when they meet and finally arrive at the restaurant.

It is hard to read Akashi.

He is a master of pretence, artful in his veneer; if he does not wish to be read, it is almost impossible to read him. Thus, throughout the night while the small talk continues as though not a single thing is wrong, Nijimura's inner anxiety continues to rise dramatically and all kinds of ideas and concerns resurface in his mind.

Nijimura has never been good at charade, his true thoughts or concerns always find a way to seep through and sometimes he outright bursts the bubble of enervating guise. So perhaps it is this specific nature of his that ultimately leads to the awkward yet unmistakably charged 'joke' he makes upon hearing that Akashi also had to visit Amsterdam for a day:

“I hope you didn't flog anyone this time.”

His face has apparently warped into a sneer and he is not aware why his words drip with such poison all of a sudden; is it his bad temper throwing a tantrum? Is it his dissatisfaction with Akashi's nonchalance despite the obvious tint of vexation in their atmosphere? Is it buried hints of insecurity trying to crawl up to the surface? Is it –

Questions in his mind come to a halt as Akashi neatly repositions himself to look at him directly in the eyes and there is obvious displeasure on his face but more importantly his brows slightly furrow and his gaze his chiding. Akashi is literally giving him a reprimanding stare down and when he speaks his voice is calm but almost scolding,

“Why would you say that?”

“It is a joke.”

“Yes, on the surface.”

Silence befalls them then and it seems that Akashi is waiting for him to explain but Nijimura himself is unsure what to explain; a childish guilt starts whistling inside him and he feels even more uncomfortable. This conspicuously causes Akashi's gaze to soften and he starts after clearing his throat silently,

“I should have clarified this when 'this' first started, but to be honest with you I wanted you to feel the insecurity and uncertainty right away so that if you do not feel ready, you can quit early. It was ostensibly out of compassion but it was awfully cruel and sly of me, for that I am sorry. I really am and I did not mean to hurt you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Nijimura-san, I have not slept with anyone after our relationship started. Not even during our initial intimate arrangement, though frankly at the time it was more because you were more than enough for my palate and hectic schedule. However, after we have come to an agreement to continue on with our relationship in its current context, I have made it a principle to not be with anyone as long as I am with you.”

Nijimura considers the statement for a second,

“Is that... what you want though?”

Akashi's eyes flicker at the question and Nijimura can see fondness fill them as a small content smile graces the thin lips candidly,

“What I want is to have peace and you give me that. What I want is my libido to be appeased and you give me that. You give me all I want, I do not see the reason I would need any other?”

Nijimura's heart is in his throat, anxiety stews in the pit of his stomach; it is not necessarily because the words are not lovely to him, the words he heard are excessively delightful but completely unexpected to the point that he is simply too shocked to give a response. Akashi takes this as his cue to elaborate,

“I do not think I am monogamous but I also do not think that it disallows me from having a monogamous relationship. I am not a jealous person at all but I can be possessive and territorial, basic human nature after all and I've also been brought up to be viciously so. However, I will obviously never hurt your socialising due to that, so rest assured. I will also expect similar behaviour from you, but that should not be a problem, should it? I believe we are both mature adults in this respect.”

Nijimura ponders silently, calm tone of Akashi's voice lulling his disquiet into oblivion. He closes his eyes for a few seconds to fully comprehend the magnitude and implications of the statements he heard, and nods his head slowly.

Akashi's smile turns impish then,

“Thus, no. I have not flogged anyone in Amsterdam. I will not be flogging anyone but you for the foreseeable future.”

Nijimura is sipping from his sake to diminish any remnants of stress when the comment is made and he almost chokes on it, the reaction seems to amuse Akashi even more and introduce a predatory glint to his pointed stare.

“That...” Nijimura starts rubbing his lips with the back of his hand, “was the weirdest declaration of fidelity I've ever heard.”

Akashi chuckles,

“Weird? I suppose by what most consider normalcy, we are indeed quite 'weird'.”

“Yeah...”

“I thought you liked me with a whip in my hand though?”

“Do you really want to discuss that here?”

“Well you were the one who brought up the subject.”

“And I am sorry for that.”

It is a genuine apology, his voice lost its brash tint when he uttered it in perfect seriousness. Akashi nods simply in acknowledgement then pauses for a bit, his eyes wandering as if looking for something.

“Is there something wrong?”

“No. Not really. But I am sorry too.”

“For what?”

“You can see through people better than most, even if you are not very calculative, you can intuit. You have always had a good intuition so you must have realised that I was rather distant and displeased, it must have bothered you.”

Nijimura blinks, taken aback by the sudden revelation and the sheer audacity of such honesty and humility from Akashi of all people,

“You don't have to say sorry for something like that. I was just confused... Is something bothering you? Did something bad happen in London?”

“No... Actually, it is quite silly and has to do more with self-indulgence than anything else.”

“Pardon me?”

“Nijimura-san, I appreciate your kindness and thoughtfulness, but one thing I can afford wherever I go is exquisite food, prime samples of the famous cuisines, special recipes of grand chefs. However, I cannot afford having someone cook for me – someone who is not a chef, not a housekeeper and so forth, but a person affectionately cooking for me. Quiet silly of a yearning, isn't it? Yet it seems I've come to be very fond of it.”

“Are you seriously telling me you were sulking all this time because I took you to dinner at an expensive restaurant instead of cooking for you at home?”

Akashi's lips purse slightly, it is not exactly a pout but something akin to that (probably the closest thing to a pout that Akashi has ever been capable of) and it overwhelms Nijimura, he can hardly keep himself from bursting into laughter,

“I have not been sulking.”

“Yeah, sure. I mean my food is probably not even half as good as what we are eating here.”

“Not 'probably': your food is 'definitely' not even half as good as what we are eating here. But the point is not the quality of food, one does not judge their likings based on objective quality necessarily; it is a subjective matter.”

If it was a witty comeback perhaps he would not be affected so but the professedly pretentious answer he receives just triggers him to cackle loudly, to which Akashi at first purses his lips tighter to but later his features soften and he gives an earnest smile.

“Akashi...” Nijimura starts as he takes his sake with one hand, other rubbing the tiny droplets of tear formed on the ends of his eyes out of laughing so obscenely,

“Yes?” Akashi inquiries with a smile,

“It seems I kind of missed you.”

“Is that so? It seems I have as well.”

Perhaps it is not in the same way but at that moment as he regards Akashi to resume eating gracefully and neatly like always, Nijimura thinks that it is fine, that he does not mind if the roots and branches of their emotions are of different colours as long as they meet, as long as he can continue bearing the giddy yet soothing hope that pulsates in his chest.

Chapter Text

It is a cool evening in early April and the whispers of rain outside lace into the melodies crafted centuries ago to create a hypnotising ode to night inside the confines of his apartment. His body moves naturally, languidly with each note, as if there are invisible strings attached to his body, to his soul that motion him in a divine synch with the touch of the keys. His hands continue with the task at hand, carefully mixing the bits of black and orange and green and yellow and pink; he will call this particular blend 'nocturne' in the honour of the night and calm awe.

“Do you like dancing?”

He could have sworn that he was alone if asked a moment ago though he knew– he knows that he was not. That is the beauty of Nijimura's presence, it is not suffocating, it is not crowding, it is not disturbing – he can share his perfect solitude with Nijimura, they can spend hours together without any words exchanged, and there is a peculiar beauty in that. A peculiar understanding he has never tasted with anyone else.

“Not particularly...” he says but he is aware that his body continues to move, track changes as if on cue, from Op 9 No 2 to Op 55 No 1 courtesy of shuffle, his shoulders and hips adjust to a new rhythm as Nijimura continues in a small voice from his place on the other side of the living room,

“You do know how to dance though?”

“Well I had to learn ballroom dances when I was young. I am very good at it, though I think anyone with good hand and feet coordination would be at least decent. It is not difficult.”

Nijimura scoffs, he cannot see it but he can feel it in the tone of the reply,

“I don't think so... I suck at it. I kept stepping on my date's feet at the prom.”

“Prom?”

“It is this American –“

“I know what it is Nijimura-san. I just assumed you would not be interested in things of that sort.”

“Well I had to attend...”

“You must have been cute.”

Wonder mixes to cringe as Nijimura responds,

“You are probably the only person to ever call me that.”

“I doubt it. Also, I think you would dance well if someone taught you properly...”

“Oh, is that an offer?”

“Would you want it to be?”

“I don't know... wouldn't it be boring?”

“Maybe. Maybe not.”

Akashi chuckles quietly and makes a note somewhere in his mind to teach Nijimura how to dance when they both have some free time, he can hear the silent steps then and in a few seconds as expected strong arms wrap around his waist from behind and he can feel the heat of his lover’s body invade his own figure from behind, his hands do not stop in their meticulous art though.

Soon their bodies start to move in synch, pressed onto each other, Akashi's slow swings guiding Nijimura's and he can feel the warm breath over his ear. Track changes, Op 72 No 1, Akashi realises at the back of his mind and Nijimura pauses for a second, putting the smallest of distance to realign himself, his arms loosen around Akashi’s waist and Akashi soon feels the soft breath on his nape instead, a kiss is bestowed; it is chaste, it is loving, it is terribly sensual and openly asexual – it brings a smile of contentment to his face and his heart floats over the peace that has filled his chest to the brim.

The keys that started slow and slowed down their bodies start rising, just as how some poignant thoughts can rise to become unbearably beautiful and passionate with the advancing hours of night, a sigh of pleasure escapes his lips as his fingers securely close the lid of the small glass jar that now holds his newest concoction. He regards the cursive letters he wrote less than half an hour ago on the fancy label of the jar, 'Nocturne' it says, Nijimura gives another tender kiss to his nape, notes start slowing down again...

It was his mother who taught him how to write cursive. Akashi was about five and had to study English, French, and Japanese, reading proved to be easy for his brilliant mind but writing was difficult for his unused and probably unready hand muscles. He was fascinated by his mother's beautiful joint-up writing of Latin letters the first time he saw it, asked for the reason why they looked so different than the printed block letters he was used to seeing.

“Because they look prettier like this, don't they?” she had said, “It is so that writing is beautiful.”

Beauty.

Beauty is in itself a quality, a reason enough 'why'. Just as the Little Prince concludes – it was again his mother who gave him that book, wasn't she? He was about five and had just learnt how to read and his mother gave him a marvellous translation of the Little Prince and instilled a fondness for cursive scripts of the foreign tongues he was trying to conquer and his father gave him a newspaper to read instead and asked him to fix his pronunciation.

It was the zeal to create something beautiful, the faith his mother put in him that had nothing to do with the 'Akashi' name or familial duty but pure parental affection and interest, the afternoons spent curled up near her on the sofa with a notebook on his lap trying again and again, the lopsided loops and italics with random angles, the successful but ugly letters his tiny fingers could manage that she smiled and kissed him for... That's how he learnt it.

“It looks pretty.”

“Huh?”

“The label. You wrote it?”

“Yes.”

“It looks like those stylish Hallmark cards back in the States...”

The notes die down only to transition into another one, Op 27 No 2, Akashi notes silently and nods,

“My mother taught it to me. Cursive script.”

Nijimura hums and nods, Akashi can feel him nod in how his dipped forehead moves and touches the back of Akashi's head, then another slow movement, another soft kiss on his nape.

Akashi smiles, keys speed up, he puts down the jar in his hand onto the surface of his kitchen counter and turns his body around, Nijimura’s arms still lazily resting around his waist, his own arms rise and touch the shoulders of the man in front of him and when he looks at the face of this person, he can see the warmth of love clouding the grey orbs. When Nijimura is calm, his neutral expression is not a soft smile or peacefully lined lips but an aloof gesture that a stranger could either identify as nonchalance or indifference. In fact, it is closer to a scowl than a smile. It is quirky in its own way and amuses Akashi, makes him smile, so he smiles and when he smiles he can see the momentary glint in the eyes closely focused on his face. Their bodies move slightly faster then, slightly longer to each side, and Nijimura dips his head forward so that their foreheads touch and his eyes close, almost instinctively his arms tighten a little more...

“You are not so bad at dancing, I knew it...” Akashi mumbles,

“Does this count as dancing?” Nijimura responds in a whisper,

“Yes, I think so...”

“If you say so...” Nijimura relents, pulling the other closer to him, Akashi shifts to lean in further and to the side, he presses his face on the other's chest softly,

“She loved dancing...”

Nijimura nods and hums in acknowledgement; there is no need to ask who, there is no need to comment further on it – Akashi appreciates how Nijimura seems to understand it all, silently.

He understands, because he knows what it is to lose a loved one – he knows it better than Akashi does certainly, for Akashi was too young to fully comprehend the loss, there are still parts painfully missing and the mourning that never truly happened haunts him in the oddest times.

But it is nice like this, reminiscing about the beautiful moments in a warm embrace, sharing thoughts and feelings that were once forcefully buried alive into the depths of his mind lest they become weaknesses... It is nice like this, in Nijimura's arm, it is comforting, healing even though the wounds are so old that there is nothing but scar tissue left behind them...

It is nice like this, he thinks, and they stay like that, entangled and moving to the flow of the calm music for another ten minutes or so until the last two songs of his playlist of Chopin's Nocturnes come to an end.

It is nice like this.

He is standing in front of Akashi's door, ready to go for a breakfast together like they had planned, finally a free weekend for both of them since the start of the new term, when the unthinkable happens. Akashi's door opens to reveal someone who is certainly not Akashi. Hair dripping wet, cheeks slightly reddened from warm shower, a large towel wrapped securely around their waist and a smaller towel around their neck going down to the chest on both sides but not long enough to cover their bare nipples… There stands Mibuchi Reo in all their graceful glory but with an extra shine courtesy of sensuality water bestows upon one right after a bath. Nijimura's upper lip naturally moves to the side and he frowns.

“You will get wrinkles at a young age if you continue scowling like an old man. It would be pitiful too, you are hot.”

“Is Akashi home?”

“Obviously.”

'Obviously'? This damned vixen.

Nijimura sighs and forces his way in rather ungracefully, but then who cares about the etiquette when your boyfriend is home alone with a stunning half naked and literally wet beauty.

Yes, Akashi is now his boyfriend. The word is still relatively foreign but he is getting used to it, now if he could stop feeling awkward every time he even thinks of the word.

“Where is Akashi?” Nijimura asks because the redhead is certainly not in the living room.

“In the shower.” Reo replies, eyebrows wiggling and lips grinning.

Nothing has happened, or rather nothing that would constitute infidelity has happened, Nijimura is certain of that much but it does not help contain his frustration with the situation.

Nijimura sits without any words, eyes trained on Reo, scowl intact and defiant. Reo giggles in response.

“You are mad aren't you?”

“Would you be mad?”

“Oh I would throw a huge tantrum and start smashing his furniture around while wailing loudly and calling him awful names.”

Nijimura cannot veil his surprise at the answer which seems to amuse Reo even more,

“I am serious. Don't look so suspicious. I can be extremely jealous. I mean, I am not even his partner but I am jealous of you.”

“You are jealous of me?”

In Nijimura's mind if someone has to be jealous here, it is certainly his role and not Reo’s. First and foremost of all, Reo is dashing, bewitchingly beautiful in a very fitting androgynous sense. He has also learnt that the tall beauty is from a renowned and wealthy family, even if they are not in the same league as Akashi's, but that's expected. Reo must be very intelligent too for they are attending Kyodai and seeing how nonchalantly they take abrupt vacations during school term (like right now, for example), they are not barely making it as Nijimura is despite all his studiousness. It doesn't help that Reo is stylish, charming, funny, and Akashi is very, very fond of them.

Reo laughs, genuinely entertained,

“You don't believe me?”

“It just does not make sense to me.”

“Hmm… Are you underestimating yourself or overestimating me? Should I be happy about this? I am not sure. But wait, are you actually jealous of me?”

“Not really.”

It is actually the truth; his current frustration is more about a territorial instinct and a yearning for some sorely missed exclusive attention than real jealousy. Nor is he envious of Reo – for after all, despite the clear inclination the tall beauty shows, Akashi has chosen him over Reo. But he is fully aware of his own inadequacies in life versus others' strengths and he has to admit that from an objective perspective Akashi's decision does not make much sense. So logically, if one had to be jealous or envious, it would have to be him, not Reo, even if he will not be so because of the way his character is.

Reo smiles,

“Good, because there is no reason you should be.”

Reo sits on the other side of the sofa, just at the edge of the part that makes an L shape, they regard each other silently but when Nijimura is about to speak up, the bathroom door creaks quietly. Akashi comes out in his bathrobe, pure white that contrasts the wet strands of his carmine hair beautifully.

“You are early Nijimura-san.”

“Good morning to you too.”

Akashi smiles,

“Let me dress up and then we can leave. Reo, don't walk around like that, it is a bit chilly, you will catch a cold.”

Nijimura's eyes widen for a second and if he has not realised the tiny devilish smirk that tugged to one end of Akashi's lips as he turns towards his bedroom, he would wonder just what the hell is wrong with Akashi's priorities – but oh, that smirk explains a lot, nothing is wrong with Akashi's priorities, he has just developed a passive sadistic streak and simply enjoys tormenting Nijimura in subtle ways. Reo cackles but his gaze is rather wistful,

“And you are surprised I am jealous of you.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Do you ever see Sei-chan being a cheeky brat like that with anyone? Anyone? Sarcastic, sure. Polite, always. Calculative, at all times. Perhaps joking, now and then, perhaps. But a playful little imp? Never.”

Nijimura blinks at the revelation,

“I am not sure if that is supposed to compliment me?”

“Well it should. It just shows how intimately he likes you.”

Nijimura contemplates for a moment about that point and it actually makes some sense, but he does not feel sharing his agreement with Reo,

“Why are you here anyway?”

“Oh and you are asking this now? Aren't you supposed to yell that question the moment you find a half naked maiden of sublime beauty in your lover's abode?”

Nijimura is dumbfounded with that response,

“A maiden?”

“Really? That's the part that got your attention? Oh, perhaps you are interested?”

Nijimura's cheeks turn slightly pink before he can even control it, he’s certainly bemused,

“What the...”

“You know I had expected you to grow nice but you've turned out even hotter. And wow, who would think that you could maintain such a nice lean figure even after leaving the spotlights of the court?”

Nijimura gapes,

“Are you... are you actually flirting with me?”

Reo almost purs, “Am I? Or am I not? Or do you want me to?” and winks.

A wink.

A fucking wink.

“You are... joking right?”

Reo bursts into laughter and almost doubles over,

“Of course I am joking... I am naturally flirtatious but I am not planning on dying any time soon for transgression and treason you know.”

“What?”

“Sei-chan may not be jealous at all but can be staunch about those daring to attempt conquer what is his.”

“Really?”

“Well, it is more of a theory for now since we never had the chance to actually observe it in the wild. But now that you two are an item, we will have the fortune, right? Ah, I really want to see him in his full-on vengeful god mode.”

“Reo.”

The duo on the sofa turn towards the door to find an impeccably dressed Akashi Seijūrō, arms crossed over his chest, eyes chiding,

“Ah Sei-chan, you're already ready?”

“Yes and you are still half naked. I hope you will not make us wait?”

“No worries, no worries, I'll get ready in five, I promise!”

As Reo rushes towards the bathroom grabbing a small carry-on baggage that was sitting right near the door, Nijimura stares at Akashi,

“He is coming with us?”

“Is that a problem?”

“Maybe. Yes. No. Whatever. When is he leaving?”

“Tomorrow.”

Nijimura sighs in frustration.

He has every right to be frustrated too, not only does he have to share the precious little alone time he has with his lover with Reo, but they wait not just five but fifteen minutes for Reo to be ready. Brunch starts off fine, small talk and some half-joking half-serious snide comments back and forth between himself and the beauty, Akashi's remarks about the food like a seasoned gourmet... He is not sure how or exactly when but by the time the brunch has come to an end and they are lazily returning back to Akashi's apartment, there is certain rigidity to the way Reo acts. Flirtatious words don't stop but there is a way they stare at Akashi now and then, with a profound yearning mixed with guilt and flickers of satisfaction. It is bizarre and Nijimura cannot explain it.

When Reo suggests watching a film together instead of Nijimura leaving after grabbing some books he had apparently left at Akashi's apartment, Akashi is already aware that there is more to it. He chooses to ignore though, fully conscious about how much of an effort this whole affair is taking on Reo's part; friendly possessiveness, long-held yearnings for a possible future someday, basic jealousy, joy for a dear friend's contentment, taunting insecurities about the strength of a bond that has taken years to mould... Akashi comprehends them all and thus perhaps does not mind spoiling Reo a bit, after all Reo was the one who stood by him even when others were afraid of him. Sure, most of it was superficial awe at the beginning but what they eventually came to build between them is a real thing: it is true friendship, camaraderie, watching each other's backs and understanding certain parts of each other that the others cannot.

How terrifying it must be to lose that special position in someone's life. Akashi does not know, he has never had to endure anything like it. His pining and obsession around Kuroko had never been similar because they were never so close in the first place – it was absolutely and mockingly one-sided.

He expects the night to bring nothing but further frustration to his friend and perhaps to Nijimura, but he relents. Sometimes the bad things should occur so that one can learn a good lesson from them.

Film starts and he sits between Nijimura and Reo.

“You are a fan of Aronofsky, aren't you?” Nijimura asks absent-mindedly as he sips from his coke,

“Yes. But I have never watched this one, since it is supposed to be an 'epic love story'.” Akashi replies and realises Nijimura shift in his spot a little self-consciously, Reo interjects,

“Oh come on Sei-chan, most great pieces of literature out there handle such matters...”

“Sure and I can be fond of them if they are of high quality but most mainstream works are either not, or even if they are, they are interpreted problematically.”

“What do you mean?” Nijimura asks a little curious,

“Take Romeo and Juliet. It is never meant to be an ideal love story, a glorification of the obsessive infatuation the two leads share. Yet it is in general interpreted as such.”

“Sei-chan, please, stop talking like that and focus on the film.”

Akashi sighs and turns his attention to the screen, Nijimura's arm brushes his – in all accounts it seems like an accidental touch, but it is not, he is aware.

As the film progresses Akashi's attention becomes more and more focused, perhaps he should have given more credit to Aronofsky, Clint Mansell as well, there is a certain breathtaking quality to the cinematography, the symbolism-rich complex narrative provokes his thoughts, and the music is simply otherworldly. He has always liked beautiful things and intricate things – what could be better when they are both together?

But there is discomfort in his stomach that grows slowly; he hopes that paying less attention to it and not sparing a glance at Nijimura will allow the origin of said discomfiture to be diminished. As the credits roll, Nijimura sighs, stays still for a few seconds longer and then stands up abruptly and walks to the bedroom, shutting the door behind him in swiftly but silently. All without a single word.

So much for hoping it would not go this way; it is not as if his mind and intuition have not warned him. He should have listened to them.

Akashi turns to Reo, who is curled up on the sofa, knees pressing to the chest, eyes gleaming with remnants of the tears shed in the saddest moments of the film,

“Don't look at me like that.”

“Like how Reo?”

“Full of blame.”

“You had watched it before, hadn't you?”

“It is a beautiful film.”

“It is, indeed. But you should not have. You should have known you should not have.”

“I didn't think he would be so upset to leave liked that to be honest… I thought he would be only mildly irritated.”

“You think he is vexed because of the love aspect?”

“He is not?”

There is true surprise in Reo's eyes, Akashi sighs,

“No. It is death that vexes him. Losing a loved one, not wanting to lose a loved one, hating death. It hits too close to home for him.”

“I–“

“You did not think. You focused only on your own feelings and only on love. There is more to us than that. And when I say ‘us’, I mean us all. So you should think, the next time.”

“You are really fond of him, aren't you?”

“Yes. I am.”

Silence befalls them and Reo gives a sigh of fatigue. They stand up, stretching their limbs awkwardly,

“I think I will leave... for a hotel tonight. My train is early tomorrow anyway.”

“You don't have to.”

“I know but I don't want to see it. I don't want to witness you comforting him all night. I have never seen you comfort anyone sweetly but I am sure you will with him and I don't think I could bear it. I am still jealous.”

Akashi nods in understanding.

“It is pathetic isn't it?”

“It is not pathetic, it is complex. Complex is not bad. I understand that this is foreign for you. It is... foreign for me as well.”

“Is it? You rarely touch anyone yet you touch him so naturally, nonchalantly, full of affection.”

Akashi nods again but it is as if he is nodding to a thought of himself than to Reo's words,

“I'll go see him. Take care then.”

“Sei-chan...”

“Yes?”

“I am sorry.”

Akashi smiles softly at the sincere apology, squeezes Reo's forearm with his hand for once before strutting towards the bedroom.

Nijimura has not turned on the light and is lying on the bed in darkness except the dim moonlight that seeps through the window into the room, drapes not properly shut. He sits near Nijimura and combs the tousled, inky hair with his fingers.

“I am pathetic…” Nijimura murmurs, Akashi almost feels like smiling at the comment.

“You are not.”

“I am. It has been two years... and I cannot even...”

“I hate hospitals.”

Nijimura's eyes turn to regard his face and Akashi continues with a tender voice, whispering his confession resolutely but without stripping the inherent hesitancy of the feelings involved,

“I hate hospitals. Not that most people like them but I specifically hate them because the last I remember of my mother is in a hospital bed. I was not allowed to visit her regularly... Her illness... advanced very fast too, she died so soon.”

“I am sorry...” Nijimura mumbles and squeezes Akashi's other hand that rests on his lap,

“I was a child. I did not understand much. Yet I continue to irrationally hate hospitals. I cannot even imagine what you went through, spending so many years in and out of hospital. Two years? You are worried about that? There is nothing more normal than you to despise hospitals, diseases, death…”

“But it is stupid because they are all inevitable... That was the whole point of the film, wasn't it?”

“Yes it was and it was also the whole point of the film that the humans are irrational, that we cannot accept our inevitable end so easily. Don't be unfair to yourself.”

Nijimura sighs and Akashi slowly reclines on the bed near him, instead of his hand, now his head touches the other's softly, leaning in, their fingers interlace between their bodies,

“Akashi, I am afraid I will never be able to move on...”

“I do not think it is about 'moving on'. Isn't it about acceptance? That life is death and death is life in a sense.”

Nijimura turns to bury his face on Akashi's crimson hair,

“How do you accept it though? How do you do that? Family altars? Photos of the dead? Because trust me, that has not worked for me yet...”

“I believe very few of us will actually ever be wise enough to fully accept it. I think it is fair to be fearful of it and lose ourselves to that turmoil sometimes. But most times, honouring the dead is yes, one way, a certain way which I wish my father followed too... But there is more to it. Like understanding the worth of 'now' and 'here', grasping the moment because all we have is the moment. We don't live in the past. We don't live in the future. All we can ever be sure of is this moment and thus savour it.”

Akashi pauses for a moment then gives a soft huff of chuckling, “I remember someone saying something similar to me actually?”

“It is one thing to say and believe and another to actually live it,” Nijimura admits, “so what do we do then? How do we just…”

“This, for example. We do this. We lie on a bed and savour peace. We go for Hanami tomorrow. And when the winter comes, we could go out for the first snow...”

“You are awfully romantic for a person who is aromantic.”

Akashi smiles,

“I am a little sentimental at times, I will have to admit, though I would not call it being 'romantic'.”

“Whatever you wish...” Nijimura whispers and starts to drop soft kisses on Akashi's neck, who languidly watches the full moon from the large window of his bedroom.

“We could go for Tsukimi too... come Autumn.” Akashi whispers as Nijimura gently pulls down on Akashi’s t-shirt to expose a little more of his left collar bone, baring part of his shoulder, and between tender kisses Nijimura mumbles,

“Sure, whatever you wish...”

Chapter Text

April is intolerable. The time he spends at the lab almost doubles because they are rushing and the courses for the term are heavier than he had expected. Akashi has apparently started working part time in one of the companies his family owns and has also decided to start publishing papers; what kind of an undergrad aims to be published in peer reviewed journals only in his second year? The Akashi Seijūrō kind.

At least the redhead attempts to better his communication skills with respect to Nijimura; he texts more or sometimes calls just to talk, he is trying and the initiative entertains Nijimura quite a bit. They are finding their own rhythm and he is pleased to realise how more intimate their relationship is becoming; it is funny, really, because their bodies are already fit perfectly, physical closeness is well developed between them but this mingling of their thoughts and feelings is completely new and a little breath-taking at times and a little awkward in others, becausethey are so different yet they somehow complement each other rather nicely.

Perhaps he has always been aware of it to a certain level; he can recall how in their middle school years, he aspired to certain qualities Akashi held, felt the other to be more adequate and worthy of being a leader for those very characteristics. Yet now, after all that has happened, after all that he has learnt and witnessed, he knows that it is not that simple; aspects of his own character that he once overlooked are not that undesirable perhaps, and perhaps aspects of Akashi that he regarded highly are not so perfect. However, when they are together, there is a balance of sorts; they are not similar at all nor are they polar opposites, they are just two pieces that fit peculiarly well and naturally, with ease.

Weather starts calming to a comfortable heat during May and Nijimura is more than grateful. It is not cold any more but it is not too hot either, it is just right. One particular weekend, when he finally has some time to spare, he visits home, after not having been able to visit the whole month of April he has missed them and they have missed him. Is it because his relationship with Akashi has become so settled and peaceful or is it because of his sleep deprived and overworked mind not being considerate and sharp enough? He is not sure, but when he enters the kitchen of his family household in the morning, wearing only a tank top and a pair of sweatpants and his sister's eyes widen and her lips move into a large cheeky grin and she exclaims, “Oh My God! You have a hickey! Onii-chan has a hickey!” – that’s when he feels his world shaking.

Play it cool.

Play it cool.

Goddamn it , play it cool.

“Huh? Don't be stupid... where is it? Must be a bug bite.”

“A human sized 'bug'? It is near the end of your left collar bone, ah, there, yes.”

Nijimura presses a finger and without the other saying that it is the right spot, he can feel the slight sensitivity of the skin, legacy of that last quickie before he left for Kanagawa for the weekend, damn it.

Play it cool.

“Hmm must be a mosquito or something.”

He scratches it with his fingers, more to cover it so that his mother who is now scrutinising him with a raised eyebrow cannot see it clearly.

“Come on onii-chan. I am not a child you know.”

“Yeah, well, sorry to burst your bubble but you are a child, according to the law.” he retorts before moving out of the kitchen, walking as nonchalantly as he can towards the nearest piece of clothing that he can don to cover the glaring mark of possession and communion. Apart from some cheerful teasing by his siblings during breakfast, the topic is more or less not touched upon, his mother does not say anything until much later when the breakfast is finished and his sister and brother have rushed out of kitchen before they are tasked with any cleaning. It is only his mother and he left in the kitchen, doing the dishes and making small talk about her work when she suddenly asks,

“Do you love her?”

“Huh?”

“Your girlfriend?”

'Girlfriend'.

The word almost scratches his ears painfully.It is not that he is in any way perturbed by the idea of a 'girlfriend'; it is the knowledge that it is not a 'girlfriend' but correcting this fact would cause so much trouble and confusion that his family simply cannot deal with right now. He sighs,

“Mum, I told you--”

“That you do not have a girlfriend. Yes, sure. And that was a mosquito bite on your collar bone. And I am actually not your mother but her evil doppelgänger.”

He sighs again and turns to his mother, iconic scowl in place, eyebrows furrowed,

“Don't look at me like that. You cannot lie to me. I am your mother.”

“Fine.”

“So you do have a girlfriend?”

“Will you believe me if I said 'no'?”

“Of course not, because it is a lie. You’re obviously seeing someone. I honestly don’t understand why you’re lying. You are an adult now; it is not as if I will chide you for it.”

“Yes but... it is just complicated.”

“Complicated?”

“Complicated. Very complicated.”

“So you are not ready to talk about it? Or for us to meet her yet?”

“God, no, please, no.”

“But there will be a time we will meet her, right?”

There is genuine curiosity and a search for assurance in her tone and it almost constricts his windpipe, breathing becomes torturous though he does not show it at all as he casuallyresponds,

“Yeah, of course. Just not now. After we figure things out ourselves first.”

Really?

Will there ever be a timewhen he will be able to take Akashi by the hand and come here and inform them of him? He is sure his mother is not prejudiced but she is already taking the brunt of all kinds of social stigma and slander for the 'crime' of being a single mother, a widow. What would their neighbours or her co-workers say? What would happen to her dreams of a daughter-in-law and grandchildren and sure, they have not thought that far into the future with Akashi but what if it shatters her dreams regardless? What if the word gets out and his younger siblings are bullied at school because of it? What if they feel intimidated by Akashi's wealth and mannerisms because in all fairness, they would have every right to be so? What if Akashi does not like them because they are too mundane and uninteresting? What if by sheer chance his mother learns of how their relationship initially started, strictly rational and devoid of emotional yearnings, through only bodily needs and a mutual friendly affection and acceptance of sorts?

“What if”s infest his mind and he is lost in their cacophony until his mother clears her throat and asks in a quieter voice, as if she is questioning particularity of a certain secret between them,

“What is she like?”

Oh mother, where to start?

'She' is certainly nothing like what you must be imagining.

He pauses for a moment, considers, then replies,

“She is… beautiful.”

A giggle.

“God, Shuuzou, I didn't raise you to be so superficial.”

He chuckles too but understands that she understands.

Beauty, after all, is more than physical aesthetics and brain’s hard-wired inclinations to symmetry in faces. Not that he does not appreciate those.

Tribulations of being a bisexual did not bother him much until that point, but as he leaves his mother's house that Sunday at noon, it is all he can think of.

It is funny how it was himself who resolutely argued that future was an unknown and thus they had to savour the present as it is to get Akashi to agree to this; he is still certain about that, he has no doubts whatsoever on that point, yet seeds of new insecurities and fears embed themselves into his heart. What will the future bring? He is not so much afraid of how his relationship will turn in that he has confidence in both himself and Akashi that they will either make it work and if they cannot, they will amicably dissolve it. What concernshim is‘the Others’. ‘The Friends’. ‘The Colleagues’. ‘The Society’.

His family.

He does not want to hurt them and he does not want his relationship to hurt them, ever, but there is an ominous feeling that it is likely to, eventually. He has not lied to his mother about anything importantsince second year of middle school; he has been the dutiful and trustworthy son all throughout his father's ailment…Yet there he was that fateful Sunday, lying to her while his face kept calm and indifferent. Lying to her face… and it pains him, to be dishonest to her because she does not deserve it but what do you do when you are certain that it is not the time for the truth and truth will only hurt and harm those around you?

Why should the truth of who he likes be a hurtful matter in the first place? How is that fair? It is not, not at all. He feels wronged, cornered and forced to be someone who he is not; he has always been blunt and it aches to not be so.

He wants to push these worries to the back of his mind so that he can think rationally and calm his nerves down, but it does not work and before he knows it, there he is with his backpack and a plastic bag full of greasy snacks bought from the nearby convenience store, in front of Akashi's door.

Straight to Akashi’s place from his mother’s, even though they had no plans together. Who knows if Akashi is even in, given his packed schedule...

He rings the bell. He knocks. No answer. He sighs and takes out his phone, a single long press on a virtual button – since when he has Akashi on speed dial? – and the calm voice of his lover greets him, as polite as ever,

“Nijimura-san?”

“Where are you?”

“I am out for an errand but I should be back in ten minutes... Or rather, twenty.”

“Twenty?”

“Yes. Can you wait at the door till then?”

Akashi, the damn clairvoyant who stubbornly refuses to accept that fact, sure does not need to ask if Nijimura is in front of his door or not – he already knows it. He already knows the answer to this question too, probably… no, definitely. Nijimura sighs as he slumps down, crouching in front of the door,

“Yes. Yes, I can.”

“Okay, see you then.”

Akashi does not wait to hang up nor does he utter those cutesy syrupy parting statements most couples do, but then it might be a blessing for Nijimura because he is not sure if he could handle that. He has never liked such obscenely blatant and repetitive mannerism of affection. He has always liked his romance subtle and veiled, all is fair game behind closed doors but gravity and respect overrules all when outside. Most of the time at least, he has his moments of exception like everyone.

Perhaps he could introduce Akashi to his mother as a friend. Yes, yes, that’s a good idea. If she at least got to know him as a friend and came to like him so… and she would like him, right? If he asked Akashi to make sure that she likes him then certainly he could achieve it, but wouldn't that be just another bout of terrible dishonesty? No, it is not a good idea; his mother is very intuitive and especially observant of his own moods; just as Himuro discovered it so quickly, she would be able to figure it out easily. What is it that gives him away? They do not indulge in any PDA, bar the accidental touches here and there, mostly they talk politely with each other devoid of any flirtatious tone or vocabulary, and they don't look into each other's eyes longingly or blush at gestures of one another...

What is it that gives him away? What will he do if somebody else recognises it other than Himuro? What will he do if one of his lab mates recognises it because sometimes Akashi comes by in the evening so that they can leave together for dinner? What will he do if his lab professor realises? Would he lose his job? Probably not, his professor has always been lax with norms and traditional views but then not being a stickler for proper etiquette or customs is not same as acceptance of queer sexuality... Not that he would have any right to interrogate his subordinate’s sexuality; how does that relate to the job they do anyway? But Nijimura is not naïve; not being related or dependent does not change the biases present in life and how sometimes injustices come to be due to the most ridiculous instances of bigotry. His mind is a maelstrom of anguish and he has not even realised how much time has passed when he is finally roused from brooding by the lucid voice of his little god,

“Nijimura-san?”

Akashi Seijūrō stands before him, dark grey slacks, black Converses, a white button up with grey buttons, a loose and thin black cardigan, and a black leather messenger bag. Perfect colour coordination like always. Everything impeccable.

Akashi’s initially curious eyes shine with a particular comprehension and he smiles delightfully, Nijimura does not find anything smile-worthy in their current stance (or his own current mood),

“You know Nijimura-san, if you continue to scowl like that, furrowing your eyebrows so strongly too, you will get wrinkles at a young age.”

This is perhaps the thousandth time Nijimura has heard this sentence in his life. Somehow hearing it so cheekily from Akashi is always a little different than when others pronounce it.

He scoffs and stands up, his muscles hurt and he glances at the phone still in his hand – sweaty and time on the lock screen showing that it has been indeed twenty minutes. A few minutes more than twenty actually.

“You are late.”

“Sorry, yes, I did not think you would warrant accuracy down to a few minutes?” Akashi responds, playfully smiling still as he moves to open the door and Nijimura just groans in response as they enter the apartment.

“Did you buy something?”

“Just some crisps.”

“You must know that they are unhealthy.”

“Yes and your artisanal nuts for snack also contain similarly high levels of lipids.”

“But they are natural.”

“So what? Lipid is lipid.”

His tone is irritated and he drops the plastic bag ungracefully to the gracefully designed table in Akashi's living room. He is being childish, it is not Akashi's fault that he is going through all this, being flooded with all these worries; if one had to blame a person, it would be him. He was the one who sought Akashi, since the beginning. But it is not that he is trying to blame anyone anyway, not that he believes there is anything to blame in the first place; it is just the accumulated frustrations that he has no place to release. He sits near the table and gazesto the black screen of the large TV – they had moved the table to face the TV some time ago to watch something while eating, he cannot even remember what. He is about to start ruminating again when Akashi calls from the kitchen side, apparently fumbling with something in the fridge,

“What would you like to do?”

“I don't know...”

“Would you like to watch a film perhaps?”

“Fine but I will choose it.”

“Okay but no romantic comedies please.”

Oh, as if Nijimura is in the mood for mainstream depictions of heterosexual romantic love and cliché stories of ‘happily ever after’.

Not today. Hell no.

After he chooses a film and settles again on the floor, legs crossed and thumb hovering above the remote, Akashi comes and settles near him. He places a can of cold beer in front of Nijimura.

Months ago beer never made it to Akashi Seijūrō's home because said grand heir claims that unless you are in a beer hall in Munich, drinking beer is a waste of one's time and taste buds. Yet now, he always has a few cans lying around in his fridge; it was Nijimura who first started buying and storing some at Akashi's home and eventually he started finding them in the fridge even at times he did not buy any.

He cannot help looking at the can like a beautiful artefact of an alien civilisation.

“Pacific Rim?”

“Yeah, you like del Toro don't you? I heard it’s like… American interpretation of mecha or something? Looks cool.”

He presses play and reaches for the beer can and that is when he realises Akashi has placed something else in front of him as well, a little to the right of the beer can, a little to the left of the small bowl of artisan trail mix. 

The sound of the film rolling starts but Nijimura cannot comprehend it. In fact the moment his eyes distinguish the object, he cannot think of anything, only vaguely hears the redhead commenting,

“Well some of his works, Pan's Labyrinth was profoundly beautiful and provoking.”

“Akashi… what is this?”

“What is what?”

Nijimura points to the small item on the table as if it is an offending intruder, Akashi shrugs and reclines a little, his back lining up to the edge of the sofa, sipping from his can of Sprite,

“It is a key.”

“No shit. This is not your key.”

“Yes, because it is your key.”

“For what?”

“For this apartment.”

Nijimura's eyes widen with disbelief, his face fully turned to Akashi,

“You are giving me a spare key to your apartment?”

“Yes.” Akashi says to him, looking into his eyes indifferently and voice crystal clear – the undernote is equally crystal clear: Why are you worrying? Do you really think I could ever do anything on impulse without considering anything and everything related to it?

Akashi turns his gaze back to the screen and continues, words come out almost bored this time, as if he is explaining some basic arithmetic to a dumb kid,

“When you called me, I realised that it would be useful if you had a spare key, you wouldn't have to wait for me.”

Should he panic? What is the usual protocol for acquiring a spare key to your lover's apartment? When does this usually happen? For how long they have been together anyway? Five months? But then they were together before, physically at least and emotionally too in a way, does that count too? Is this too early? Too late? What does it signify? He has never had any relationship this serious or grown-up before to use as a reference.

“The visuals are nice.” Akashi comments, eyes still focused on the film playing before them.

Nijimura chuckles dryly. 'The visuals are nice'?

He takes the key to his other hand and reclines back as well, his shoulder touching Akashi's. A sip from the beer calms his nerves a little; visuals are indeed nice so his lover has a point.

Why worry for the future?

Surely, Akashi is more than aware of all the difficulties that Nijimura has only recently felt the burden of. Surely, he is thinking of them too. Surely, as his fingers slowly interlace Nijimura's in a gesture so natural, he is not alone to figure out a way through this minefield. It is not his future alone, after all, it is their future.

He is not alone in this, nor is Akashi.

By the time the film comes to an end and the credits roll, Nijimura is a little tipsy courtesy of two cans of beer and Akashi is not sitting next to him but instead on his lap, his back comfortably pressing on his chest, short crimson locks resting on his shoulder.

“That was good, huh?”

“Pace was rushed near the end but cinematography was good and characterisations were quite interesting. I wish they developed side characters too though, they were wasted. Plot was very mediocre but it was definitely entertaining.”

Nijimura chuckles at Akashi’s unnecessarily detailed comment, his mind finally in peace, his body slightly fatigued under the weight of his lover – and how sweet of a fatigue it was if he dared admit… A silly question comes to his mind then,

“Hmm... Akashi,who do you think you would be drift compatible with?”

Akashi considers the question for a bit as he sits up and pauses the rolling of the credits with a touch on the remote,

“I had a senpai in my first year in high school, Mayuzumi Chihiro, even though he could not understand me, his intuitions regarding me could be terrifyingly accurate. I think I would make a good team with him. With Reo too, of course but then Reo could probably with many others. They are just too intuitive and accepting. You as well, of course.”

“Hah, I am literally an afterthought?”

“No, actually, given how complementing our strengths are and how we are the most honest with each other, you would be an ideal candidate for me. Thus, you were not an afterthought at all…But I might have mentioned you last on purpose.”

Nijimura's scowl deepens, his lips moving into that asymmetric line they always do whenever he scowls, his fingers start playing with the key he was given, Akashi looks at him with a smile – a content and impish little smile.

“So, Nijimura-san, who do you think you would be drift compatible with?”

“Tatsuya.” Nijimura says without even thinking and it somehow causes Akashi to grin with amusement,

“Is that so? Just Tatsuya?”

“Yes. Only Tatsuya. I know for a fact too because he and I fought against some troublesome people in the past, once or twice; we get along pretty well as a pair. Very fluid, natural cooperation.”

Not a tinge of jealousy is present in Akashi's eyes despite Nijimura's honest effort to cause some,

“Well, good to know for future reference in case we find ourselves riding mechas, trying to save the world.” Akashi says, snickering silently before softly plopping himself back on Nijimura's lap.

“You are not jealous at all, are you?”

“No, I am not.”

Nijimura smiles, placing his chin over the mop of carmine hair, his fingers unconsciously turning and squeezing the key, almost inscribing its model to his muscle memory...

“Changing Foreign Forces in Transformation of Japanese Law: A Comparative Study of French Influence in Meiji Civil Code versus Post-war Americanisation”

That is the working title of the article Akashi is currently busy with writing and Nijimura is uncertain of two very important things. First, how does that title not manage to give any headaches to Akashi, because it sure does to Nijimura? Second, how does Akashi even find the time to work on it? Scratch that – he knows the answer to the latter: by cutting their alone time during the week to practically none. His kouhai (and partner) has been spending afternoon and early evening of every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday in library. First, it was the library of the Faculty of Law but by early June, according to his own comments, he has finalised the research material for the legal aspect and documentation and has to focus on the historical sociopolitical dynamics as well as a proper methodology and theoretical framework, which means he switches to the library of Faculty of Letters.

It so coincides that the main project Nijimura has been tasked with at the lab has recently concluded and finally he actually has a bit more time for his private life. But Akashi is missing mostly and even when they are together, he is often reading, absorbed in stacks of papers or books with titles such as “Socioeconomics of Pre-modern Virtue Jurisprudence in East Asia” or his iPad, which seem to be increasingly replacing his personal library (not that Nijimura is complaining, it is much tidier). It would be a lie if Nijimura said he did not crave attention from Akashi, in fact he has realised how needy he can be so painfully accurately as his relationship with Akashi developed further and further… It is not as if he childishly wishes to be the focus of Akashi’s life (nor would he expect vice versa), he has become used to compartmentalising as well. It is just that he requires some alone time with his lover when the said lover’s attention is not fully stolen by unnecessarily complicated legal or philosophical lingo. The thesis Akashi is preparing apparently consumes the redhead so much that even their sex life has been reduced to the regular Saturday meetings they have when they spend the whole day together. It feels as though they are an old married couple. The thought is eerily both reassuring and terrifying.

One day Nijimura decides that this is not working and if he wants more time with Akashi, well, he has to make it himself. It is not as impossible of a task as it initially seems once he analyses his options carefully and deduces that even Akashi has to eat. Since he himself does not stay till late night in the lab anymore, he is free for dinners and he knows Akashi is staying until evening at the library so what better opportunity to see each other? They could have dinners together and it would be… nice. He is sure Akashi would not mind it.

It is this kind of thoughts and self-assurances that whirl in his mind as he sets to find Akashi in the rather large library of the Faculty of Letters one Wednesday. Luckily, it takes him only five minutes to find Akashi as the redhead is sitting at a quite visible spot in the middle of the hall. Unfortunately, he is not alone. On the other side of the desk crowded by various books and stacks of paper, sits a young man whom Nijimura recognises right away.

Kageyama Shun.

At least he doesn’t seem to be actively disrupting Akashi’s work but silently reading his own book… and then glancing at Akashi… then reading again and then… Okay, maybe still bothering him in a way though.

Nijimura gets the idea quite easily after only a few moments of scrutiny: Kageyama is obviously checking Akashi out and staring at him like the love-struck fool he is.

(A curious thought of “Do I also look so taken when I glance at Akashi?” flashes through his mind unnecessarily but he is too absorbed in his discovery of Kageyama’s pestering than to focus on the fleeting question.)

He sighs quietly to himself. There is no way this is ending well. Nijimura does not know the young man, but from what he has seen of his interactions with Akashi, he is stupidly arrogant and does not shy away from using intimidation to get what he wants; a truly spoiled brat. All frankly terrible qualities when it comes to pursuing Akashi. If anything, Kageyama is lucky that he has not actually lost his sanity, or income, or any limbs by now… Not that Nijimura would be particularly upset if that had been the case. He cannot find any pity in his heart for the creep.

He steps towards the duo (or rather to Akashi as he is walking towards the side Akashi sits) and taps the table a few times gently to announce his arrival. Both sets of eyes turn to him with wildly contrasting gazes: Akashi is first bemused (and that is in itself a miracle and always overwhelming to witness) and then quickly glad, his gaze soft, his lips reflexively curling up into a serene smile. Kageyama on the other hand is most obviously displeased but trying to hide it, his hands anxiously start playing with each other and he is stealing glances at Nijimura, reserved and nervous but evidently unfriendly.

Nijimura ignores him completely and chooses to focus on the pretty face smiling at him.

“It’s 7 already, come on, I’ll buy you dinner. I bet you didn’t eat anything since lunch.”  

“Well you’ve already come here to pick me up; it would only be fair if I treat you?”

“Whatever. Sure.”

Nijimura shrugs and can see the way Kageyama is a little surprised at his response, though he honestly could not care any less – why shouldn’t he let Akashi treat him? Akashi stands up and starts to quickly gather his things; he leaves most of the books on the table itself for library assistants to later place but a few he takes into his bag. He starts talking in the middle of packing up, so indifferently as if unaware of the tension that is already present and how the words he’s uttering will only increase them,

“Shun here was mentioning a new Korean barbeque nearby the campus, you like galbi, don’t you? Why don’t we go there?”

“Sure,” Nijimura says and deliberately avoids looking at Kageyama again but can see from his peripheral the scandalised face Kageyama is making. Did he ask Akashi to have dinner with him, babble about the restaurant, only to be rejected? Nijimura is sure Akashi would not endure the pest for a whole dinner even for the sake of civility; it is a wonder he has allowed Kageyama be so near while studying in the first place. Probably did not want to shift his focus from his work. For the little emperor, work comes first, always.

They leave silently and only when they are out of the library building, on their way out of the campus, Nijimura brings up the elephant gracefully ignored till then,

“Was he hitting on you again?”

“Yes and no. I think he wanted to but could not go through.”

“Huh? That’s… interesting.”

“I think he might be intimidated by you. Scared even.”

“By me? Well, he’s got the wrong person then. I’m not the one he should be afraid of.”

Akashi snickers happily and slowly swings his body towards Nijimura walking beside him such that his shoulder grazes Nijimura’s arm, the fleeting touch simultaneously electrifies and calms and Nijimura cannot help a smug grin capture his lips.

That is all they speak of Kageyama for the night, the topic quickly switches to Akashi’s paper first and then to food (because honestly, Nijimura wants to be as enthusiastic about it as Akashi seems to be but cannot find the power in himself to be so, legal history or philosophy or anything to do with law has never been an area of interest for him and will never be so). Topics change and even though Nijimura had not planned on going to Akashi’s place that night they end up going back together, sleeping together, and waking up together…

Nijimura congratulates himself for the solution to the little scheduling problem of theirs and is ready to pick Akashi up at the library Friday evening as well. Kageyama seems to have a similar idea about his own strategizing and is present too. Nijimura ignores him again, Akashi is similarly indifferent, but there is more scrutiny in Kageyama’s eyes, his manners much less reserved. It is as if he is testing the waters. What does he think? That Nijimura is Akashi’s guard dog or something? Nijimura wants to both laugh and cry, and perhaps even shout obscenities at the fool.

By the time Nijimura picks Akashi up on the next Monday (and he honestly has not even thought of Kageyama once throughout the weekend, not that he had much mental capacity to ruminate over anything after the little feast Akashi gave him in the bedroom on Saturday), Kageyama is again present at Akashi’s table. It seems as though he has become a fixture at Akashi’s table. Nijimura is rather irritated and scoffs openly but that’s pretty much it. He does not feel any insecurity towards Kageyama, who is the kind of person Akashi would not bed even if he was not with Nijimura in the first place, and in any case his trust is complete with Akashi. Kageyama may have attractive looks but surely not the personality and Akashi has signalled his rejection so clearly too. Thus what infuriates him is not any sort of jealousy but how bothersome and borderline stalker Kagyeama is acting. It is not his place to ‘protect’ Akashi though, he knows this very well; not because he does not feel protective towards the redhead, he does, oh-so-unnecessarily much sometimes, but this is something Akashi can definitely handle and Nijimura’s involvement could give further wrong impressions to already mistaken Kageyama.

If there is one thing his little god cannot tolerate, it is being taken lightly or seen as the damsel in distress; not that anybody should tolerate such perceptions, Nijimura thinks.

“You don’t have to come to pick him up every day like a jealous boyfriend.”

The words are enunciated perfectly and said loud enough that all three of them hear clearly. So maybe Kageyama is not as intimidated as before towards Nijimura? The brunette spares a look of pure indifference to Kageyama as an answer, because it is the most ridiculous thing he has heard; perhaps he is being like a needy boyfriend, but a jealous one?

“A jealous one would have punched your pretty face into oblivion” is the sentence that hangs in his mouth but never makes it out, because he is not sure how his words could be taken. More importantly, he is uncertain how he feels about being outed right there and then, answering to Kageyama could lead him to confirm certain things in his mind… Like Nijimura and Akashi being actually together. The thought of being outed unnerves him but he makes sure to not let it show on his face.

Akashi smiles to Kageyama,

“Senpai has always been a little too caring, making sure I eat properly…”

The polite answer satiates Kageyama, or perhaps it is the fact that Akashi is smiling at him, but the young man gives a smug look at Nijimura, who is a little torn between punching the guy or laughing at him because, oh he is so playing with fire…

What most people fail to realise is that Akashi is the most dangerous when he smiles.

They do not talk about Kageyama at all that night. But when they are having ice cream at home after the dinner, Akashi casually asks,

“You do not want to inform anyone of our relationship yet, right? Other than those who already know, that is. At least that was my assumption.”

“Hmm… Well… If you feel the need—“

“I am not sure if I would want to right now, given the sensitivity, but I don’t think this is a decision I or you should be making alone. It is something we should discuss and come to an agreement together.”

Nijimura nods absentmindedly,

“I don’t think I am ready. I actually don’t even know if or when I’ll be ready…”

He did not mean to sound exhausted or uncertain but his voice comes gruff with weariness and doubt and for a second he considers if it was rude to say that, what if Akashi misunderstood—

“I understand. Your situation is especially difficult. In my case there are many problems too, although mostly regarding the image than actual people being hurt or harmed… However, I think I could deal with them when push comes to shove or we decide to let people know. But we can take it easy based on our comfort – yours and mine.”

Nijimura stares at Akashi for a bit then, trying to find anything his lover might be hiding in those bright eyes, any hurt or yearning, but he finds nothing more than genuine comprehension and acceptance and it touches him. It touches him and he blames himself for dwelling upon matters such as these alone so far, because when Akashi accepted him, he accepted him: they are in this together, the burden is theirs both, the comfort of each equally important… In hindsight, he finds himself very stupid and with the sudden realisation of just how content he is with what they have, he feels like taking Akashi into a tight hug, squeezing his smaller frame in his arms till he can feel he could not tighten his embrace any deeper, till Akashi starts making those little sounds of pleasure mixed with pain, till he feels he has captured enough of Akashi…

But they are eating ice cream and he still has a long way to go in learning how to be truly impulsive around Akashi so he does not. Instead he smiles, a genuine smile which relaxes Akashi’s own expression into a mellow one… Just when Nijimura is thinking that he can maybe start to learn being more spoiled and careless towards his lover, Akashi leans in and grabs a spoonful from Nijimura’s bowl of ice cream and takes it to his mouth knowingly as he repositions himself such that he is almost glued near Nijimura, their sides fully in contact and his head reclines on Nijimura’s shoulder comfortably… He savours the piece of ice cream he stole rather loudly with lots of “mmm” and Nijimura would laugh if he was not so bewildered by the sudden playfulness (not that he has never seen it, he has, but it is rare enough to be impactful at every instance and it is always astonishing to realise that Akashi is at times a cheeky kitten around him, and specifically only around him).

“You know, Nijimura-san…” Akashi starts, pausing to fully swallow the remnants of his stolen goodies, “you think too much sometimes. By yourself too. I understand because I tend to do the same. But I’ve come to realise that we work better when we actually work together.”

Nijimura nods and hums in agreement, leaning in to his lover further so that his chin can rub Akashi’s hair,

“Plus,” Akashi starts again, “communication is the key to fluid cooperation.”

This is when Nijimura actually cackles and Akashi purses his lips in slight annoyance,

“What?”

“Gee, I don’t know… Just you speaking of our relationship like some company management.”

Akashi pauses for a second and furrows his eyebrows, apparently considering the allegory seriously which elicits further laughter from Nijimura, the edges of his eyes being filled with little tears of joy.

“And I haven’t even started talking about synergy yet…” Akashi adds with a fake-incredulous face which causes Nijimura to move the bowl of ice cream on his lap while laughing uncontrollably because he is afraid he’ll drop the damn thing and ruin Akashi’s immaculate tatami floor.

“Akashi… God… You—“

“Well you should have thought twice about these kinds of things before dating a man literally brought up to be a leading businessman.”

“Yeah probably…”

Akashi finishes his own bowl of ice cream and puts the empty bowl away on the table in front of them before snuggling back to Nijimura and only when Nijimura’s cackling has completely subsided he slides onto his lover’s lap, wrapping his arms around his neck, the unruly inky locks itching his bare arms slightly… Nijimura faintly realises this and makes a note of seeing a barber but thoughts in his mind are quickly leaving him as Akashi stares at him so intently,

“Mm… What?” he asks, genuinely curious at what has gotten Akashi’s attention on his face. He muses if he has some ice cream stain on his cheek or something. The redhead clears his throat and speaks in a deadpan serious voice,

“I was thinking that holding quarterly stakeholders meetings would actually be beneficial to increase our efficiency and improve our coordination.”

Then he grins.

That is when Nijimura loses himself to cackling again, under the much amused stare of Akashi Seijūrō.

He actually expected to see Kageyama again at Akashi’s table on Wednesday evening, having already accepted the fact that the pest will not go away until Akashi decides “enough is enough” and Nijimura would wait even though it irritates the hell out of him. What he does not expect is to run into Kageyama way earlier in the day, when he is having a break strutting around the campus, taking in the sunshine and chirping of the birds, drinking soda. The moment he sees Kageyama, he sighs tiredly, half expecting the other to glare at him in the least, but what happens is quite outside his predictions. Kageyama’s face turns white as a sheet and with eyes full of horror he turns on his feet and starts walking very briskly towards the opposite direction.

For a moment he feels the inclination to run after and find out just what the heck is going on but he has a few ideas what could have happened and he wishes he did not; some secrets are better not known. This does not  deter him from asking to Akashi that evening, after picking him up like always from the library (and this time Akashi is alone – no Kageyama around his table), curiosity be damned,

“So what did you do to Kageyama for him to be scared shitless of me?”

“You’re not the one he’s scared of.”

“Oh…” Nijimura nods, “that makes sense… But honestly, what did you do? Did you threaten him?”

“Please Nijimura-san,” Akashi smiles innocently, “if I had threatened him, he would not be so well off still. I merely informed him of his previous mistake.”

“Mistake?” Nijimura is confused and Akashi seems to enjoy his confusion,

“The one where he thought you were the one he should be intimidated of.”

“Oh…”

A few moments of silence later, eyes trained on Akashi’s amused grin instead of the path he is walking, Nijimura cannot help but query,

“You won’t tell me what you did to him exactly, right?”

“It’s better for you not to know.”

“If you say so…” Nijimura shrugs and Akashi swings slightly, touching his shoulder onto Nijimura’s in a joking hit,

“I read somewhere that keeping mystery helps sustain the spark in a relationship.”

“Oh dear Lord… Akashi, don’t tell me you started reading relationship advice books.”

“No, it was a magazine at the dentist’s lobby… I was bored.”

Nijimura gives a loud sigh of mock relief and Akashi giggles silently and if Nijimura’s hand moves and his knuckles touch over Akashi’s, it is purely an accident…

Chapter Text

They are at a fancy hotel in downtown Tokyo when Nijimura receives a call from his mother. He is clearly upset right after he hears his mother's voice and Akashi can deduce that something important and problematic has occurred; the one side of the conversation he hears only further confirms his conclusion.

“Okay…Just calm down.”

“Mum, where are you now?”

“No-- No, please. I will.”

“No, it’s okay stop saying sorry. Don't panic.”

“I will-- No, I’m telling you it’s okay.”

“I’m sure it’s something minor.”

“Just calm down, I’m going now, okay?”

“I’m going out for him right now, just stay put, I’ll call you.”

Nijimura bolts out of the bed the second he hangs up the call, throwing the phone on the bed almost violently, Akashi sits up and somewhere in his brain calculations have already started.

“Is there an emergency?”

“Yes.”

“What has happened?”

Nijimura was trying hard to control his panic when talking with his mother but the way his hands slowly shake now as he tries to put on his pants is unsettling.

“My-- my brother is apparently at a kouban. They called mum. But she’s in the middle of a work meeting in Nagoya; she had left for this morning. She's coming back tonight but--”

“I understand.”

Akashi frees himself from the sheets and moves forward, leaning, holds Nijimura's right wrist, his lover looks at him and for the first time in his life Akashi Seijūrō sees Nijimura frantic. Frightened beyond words.

Akashi comments calmly,

“I'll take you there.”

He moves to put his own clothes while Nijimura mumbles as he tries to button his shirt but his fingers are obviously not obedient,

“I can take the train.”

“Nijimura-san, I said I will take you there. The whole reason I bought a car was for emergencies like this.”

Nijimura does not reject any further – any other time and he would, the fact that he is not is because he is fearful, because all he cares at that moment is his brother, his family; Akashi, being aware all of this, swallows silently in respect and sincere sympathy. He is not used to seeing Nijimura vulnerable; it has a profound effect on him.He never thought he could empathise, but is this empathy? More like ‘care’, he decides; an end-result of affection, care for another's well-being, care for another's happiness, care for another's peace...

They leave the hotel hurriedly, check out is luckily very fast in this kind of hotels, and Akashi quickens his pace to follow Nijimura's brisk steps to the car. When he starts the car, when he begins driving, when he inputs the address Nijimura mentions into the GPS, his mind has already processed a series of possibilities, a series of plans and side plans and B, C, D, E plans... Somewhere in the middle of the way, he reaches out to hold Nijimura's hand but the brunette does not look at the touch, his eyes continue to focus outside, the hazy image of buildings being passed by at a high speed, his frown deeper than ever but not a tint of anger on his face or dissatisfaction, rather sadness, concern, trying to brace himself for the worst. Akashi was never big on hand holding or similar gestures even though he acknowledges their value in bonding, now it feels natural to do them with Nijimura, he did not even consider for a second before his hand moved almost in a natural pull…

More importantly as he expected Nijimura's hand stops that slight trembling as it is being squeezed between Akashi’s delicate fingers.

It must have been hard. It must have been extremely difficult. Akashi knows how familial obligations and burdens can crumble one's spirit.It must have been worse when it is not for frivolous reasons of wealth and honour, but out of love and against matters of actual life and death, for survival. He dearly knows what it means to lose a parent and the self-blame that always comes with it; in his family, mourning was nonexistent so perhaps it was more screwed up than Nijimura's case could ever be but it also meant that he consciously focused on anything but his mother's death, the pity-fest and hateful self-abhorrence could only fester in his subconscious. It is not like that for Nijimura, who has watched his father die slowlyin agony; who still has regrets, who still somehow blames himself unconsciously and consciously, despite knowing better.

When they arrive, after their hands disentangle, after they get out of the car, the moment Nijimura enters the kouban, his hands are not trembling at all, his eyes are still worried but his face is calmer – it is a façade, a requisite of responsibility. Akashi feels compassionate towards this man who is burdened with things no other third year university student should, no high schooler should have ever been, no middle schooler should have ever been... It is ironic because Nijimura definitely thinks more or less the same for Akashi; he is certain of this.

It is a mix of mutual respect and subtle compassion, not pity, never pity – they esteem each other too much to pity.

There was a fight apparently and his brother was involved, delinquency of the basic sort but it is enough to shoot a flaring anger all over Nijimura's face and Akashi knows too well. The intimate confessions between sheets in the middle of the night, lazy words dyed with anguish, unwarranted repentance; Nijimura knows as an adult that he is not guilty for his farther's sickness or death and how insignificant his past delinquency was in the greater scheme of things. It does not help against the obstinacy of irrationality of his emotions. “What if”s and “could have”s and shameful, shameful, disgusting regrets… Everyone has them; Nijimura is just more prone because he has seen more, lived more, survived more monsters… Even Akashi has them; it may be a deeply held secret and seemingly impossible from outside, but he does and they hurt the most painfully.

Now Nijimura is mad.

Now Nijimura is sad. Now Nijimura is worried. Now for Nijimura is a different melangeof so many emotions wrapped in thin, stinky layers of anxiety… and for the first time in his life Akashi feels like holding someone's hand yet does not. He stops the inclination of his fingers before his hand can even start to move. The same natural gesture of less than hour ago is now forbidden.He cannot – the societal norms and whatnot, these strangers would be able to confer their relationship. The relationship that must be hidden because someone long ago trivially decided it to be improper. For the first time in his life, Akashi feels the discrimination he has been able to avoid mostly nonchalantly, as though he was above it, yet he is not, he realises now.

The cancerous pride in him roars. Does it matter? He could ‘handle’ any unnecessary trouble or pointed stares after all… But Nijimura is not so immune and already in a rare moment of fragility. Not everyone has the assets or the emotionally detached background to go against such daily oppression so easily. He acknowledges this fact silently, humbled by his own privilege and harsh realities he is more used to ponder about than to face, yet he is still frustrated.

Why?

It is ludicrous, it is nonsensical, it is unbelievable, and it pierces Akashi's consciousness like a cruel and bizarre dagger that should not exist in the first place. He walks outside quietly, hoping to empty his mind of the maddening state of powerlessness against this injustice. He waits outside for Nijimura, who is taken to see his brother.

He is not in love with Nijimura.

It is so ironic. He is not even romantically in love with Nijimura yet he is bound by the illogical hatred around the idea of such a love.

He is not in love with Nijimura, andafter all, he does not have to be so to feel inclined to support him, to be there for him, to hold his hand?Yet he is not allowed to because what, holding hands are supposed to be something only lovers do? Because 'lovers' are always supposed to be of opposite gender? What kind of travesty is that? What kind of barren idea of ‘love’ can induce such injurious rules of evil, hailed as virtue?

It is not as if he has not known the fallacy of the whole framework, but it is one thing to know it and quip about it in philosophically demanding conversations now and then, and it is something completely different to be a victim to it.

Being powerless is disgusting, being incapable is unsettling. Wrath brews in him and he can feel it seething underneath his skin,

“Those who are not victors are doomed to perish” his demons remind him in the back of his mind. But Akashi has already learnt to tune them out long ago.It is not a moment he can wallow in the turmoil of his own pride and hurt. The moment is not about him.

It is about Nijimura. He disperses the self-centred waves of dissatisfaction for the time being.

When Nijimura comes out with his brother, the first thing Akashi notes is that he is still upset and tense but the panic has faded away, which is good. The second thing he notes is how the little brother looks like the elder and is now staring at him puzzled.

“Akashi, this is my brother Arata; Arata, this is Akashi, he is my kouhai in the university.”

The young boy bows slightly and though he seems distressed (and with a few bruises here and there on his face), his eyes are scrutinising Akashi's face and figure with curiosity.

Nijimura sighs and is about to talk when Akashi cuts him off right in time (and it is deliberate),

“I'll take you two home.”

“You have a car? How old are you?!” the younger interjects and Nijimura punches his shoulder lightly in reprimand,

“Be respectful. I said he is my kouhai, he is a second year university student.”

The boy “ow”s at the gesture, rubbing his shoulder and murmuring something about it being already hurt,

“Good. I hope it hurts even more. I hope it breaks. Actually, y’know what, when we get home I’ll break all your bones and complete the masterpiece they left unfinished.”

“They didn’tget to break my bones...” the boy mumbles with a defiant glare despite his obvious embarrassment,

“Such a pity!”

Akashi clears his throat and that seems to work to get the two bickering brothers out of their fit. He points his head towards the car before starting to walk and the other two follow him obediently; he smiles to himself, satisfied that his authoritative aura holds true over such ‘delinquents’.

“You have called your mother, right?” Akashi asks, just to be sure, Nijimura would but he was still panicked when they first entered the station, so he is checking just in case.

“Yes, I did and that's the only reason why this little prick is still alive.”

“You know when you threaten me like that and then say that I should not fight, it doesn’t really convince-- Wait! What?! Wow! Akashi-san isfilthy rich!”

Akashi is glad that his car was able to break the boy's sentence because without even looking back he is sure Nijimura's eyes have already donned hues of remorse and insecurity. His past as a delinquent is his weak point; he does not wear his prowess in fighting as a badge of honour either, or his quick temper, but instead as marks of shame…

“Yes, I am,” Akashi responds as if he is talking about the most mundane fact of life as he presses the button on the remote to unlock the doors; in fairness to him, being filthy rich has been the most mundane fact of his life since he was born. He had not chosen his car because he wanted to show off his wealth though; the idea has forever been ridiculous and unnecessary to him. He simply has always liked strong German cars and well, black is his favourite colour alongside red and Nijimura had been adamant for him to not get a red one, even declaring that he would never ride with him in that case and claiming the colour would make Akashi look like a “pimp” or “boytoy”. Akashi was not fully convinced with those arguments, but he was equally content with a black one so he did not push the matter further.

Nijimura first shoves his brother to the backside like a police officer arresting a criminal and then walks around the car to hop into the passenger seat on the front. He enters the address of his family home to the GPS himselfas Akashi starts the car.

The younger Nijimura silently observes Akashi all the way home, obviously with avid interest and wonder; it feels nostalgic in a way.He can recall how the older Nijimura himself had regarded him in their first meeting in Teikou. There is more to ‘Nijimura Junior’s curiosity though, Akashi is aware of the questions simmering in the younger's mind:

What is Akashi to Nijimura?

Why would a random kouhai take you to another city to save your bratty brother?

How did they meet?

Why are Akashi’s eyes of two different colour?

Is Akashi really rich?

Akashi opts to gracefully ignore the attention but at one point Nijimura himself boils up:

“Stop staring you idiot.”

The young boy blushes then, it is pretty on his youthful face, and Akashi laments that he has never seen Nijimura the older blush during their middle school days, not like that anyway; it would have been nice, it would have been a beautiful memory to cherish.

When they arrive, Nijimura sighs loudly and invites Akashi home who first declines politely but Nijimura insists,

“My mother would kill me. She specifically mentioned to treat you to dinner.”

“She is too kind.” Akashi replies and it is not a superficial comment for politesse, he means it.

Nijimura household is not big but not tiny either. It is not immaculate but it is not messy either. It is not fancy but it is not poor either. It is average, perfectly average. Just as it is average, it is obviously a ‘home’ and not just a household.

It is exactly as Akashi has expected; he is positively unsurprised.

“Arata, go to your room. You are not getting out until I call for dinner. Grounded.”

“What? Why?!”

“Really? Are you really going to ask me 'why'? You little–“

Arata pointedly looks at Akashi, “we have guests you know” is what he is saying with his stare and Nijimura swallows the profanities at the tip of his tongue as a result, despite Akashi has heard even the worst of them in the past;

“Just… go to your room.”

The boy leaves at the command though murmuring some last words of rebellion at his older brother.His eyes follow Akashi until he disappears on the stairs. Nijimura sighs tiredly and walks into the kitchen, plopping himself on one of the chairs around the table in the kitchen.His palms cover his face.Suddenly he is terribly fatigued, completely spentand Akashi can clearly see that.

“Thank you...” Nijimura mumbles a few silent moments later and Akashi takes the chair across him only then, as if that was the invitation he was waiting for, softly replying, “Not at all.”

“You're not gonna ask what was it?”

“A childish fight is what was it, I’m sure.”

“Yes. My God... Akashi... he… he is just like me. The temper. The stubbornness. What the hell I’m gonna do?!”

Akashi would cup his cheek and touch his hand if they were in his apartment; here he clears his throat to get Nijimurato look at him,

“If he is indeed just like you, then there is nothing for you to worry about.”

A second of happy bemusement later, a bittersweet smirk tugs on Nijimura's lips,

“A compliment from you is quite a big thing, I’m aware but trust me; I was no good.”

“We learn how to be good by making some no good moves, Nijimura-san.”

“Even you?”

Akashi smiles. There are so many people he would not even tolerate such a question from. The honesty and truth he dares share with Nijimura confuses (and terrifies) him sometimes. This time though, he only feels at peace as he answers:

“Yes, even me.”

Nijimura exhales loudly, obviously not content with the answers he is getting, Akashi reclines a little on the chair and unbuttons the first two buttons of his salmon coloured dress shirt,

“It is normal for children his age to get into fights due to hormonal changes and adolescent angst. It is likely a sign of wanting attention too. And I’m not going to sugar-coat this: it probably has to do with absence of a father as well. But he is a good boy, you are a great older brother, and your family is a loving one. He will be fine. You will be fine.”

Brutally analytical and honest answer somehow satisfies Nijimura more – Akashi cannot help but feel entertained by this fact. It is too queer; anyone else would have felt more touched at his previous words of affectionate encouragement. They were equally sincere too. But Nijimura is not anyone else; and that’s exactly why they can get along so well.

“You sure?”

“You cannot be doubting my words now, could you?”

“I thought that was the reason why you were so fond of me?”

The last words are said in a quiet voice, evidently a secret shared; it amuses Akashi, he smiles, sincerely glad at the tiny moment of intimacy and the slight relief in Nijimura’s tone,

“At times. Only at times. Do not doubt me when I say this: you will be fine.”

“Fine. If ‘the emperor’ says so.”

“Well good to see you are back to your ironically condescending ways.”

“Come on, it’s not condescending.”

“Really? I thought that was the reason why I – a guest – was not even offered anything to drink yet?”

Nijimura's eyes widen,“You are joking.”

“Am I?”

Nijimura chuckles and Akashi finally feels comfort wash over his heart. So he himself was worried too, he realises. It is curious how he has not realised it until that moment.Nijimura offers oolong tea and they drink together making small talk about Nijimura’s family.He also calls his sister to buy some groceries on the way home when she is coming from school. When she arrives, Akashi revels in the innocent bashfulness of the girl while Nijimura keeps giving horrified glances to her.

“I’m sure I am not her type,” Akashi jokes at one point in a whisper, when she has momentarily left the kitchen, but the comment seems to only rile Nijimura up further.

He cooks the dinner and his sister helps. Akashi observes them bicker and chatter, her scolding Nijimura for cutting the mushrooms too crudely, her chiding of their younger brother for the trouble he caused, something about teenage boys being “half brained” (she immediately corrects that she has no doubt Akashi-san was not like that and Nijimura absentmindedly nods in reminiscence)…The smell of food being cooked engulfs the whole kitchen, aroma of the spices and the broth... Indeed, it is the kind of household exactly as Akashi has imagined and he revels in the sweet, sweet banality of it all.

For, luxury is overrated.

For, mansions are overrated.

Why would you need large tables only for two individuals? Why would you need twelve bedrooms and five bathrooms? Why would you need decares of gardens that nobody visits but the gardeners? Why would you need a hallway the size of a mediocre apartment? Why would you need kitchens that owners of the house almost never visit?

He is not used to social proximity of this sort, he is not used to houses like this, he is not used to kitchens like this, but somehow it feels all right, it feels calming, it feels comfortable, it feels… just right. In fact, it feels very much like Nijimura; how he struts around Akashi’sapartment and leaves the house never as immaculate as he found it but never messy either, pots with warm food on the stove, quiet chit chat as he cooks, and those times too Akashi simply sits and does whatever he needs to do as he steals glances at Nijimura.

There is comfort, there is warmth, and there is love ingrained to every centimetre of this space that Akashi has never been able to find in the grand mansions of his family in Kyoto or Tokyo.

Dinner starts and it is noisy;the sister taunts the newly delinquent brother who joins them for dinner and they bicker, Nijimura makes chiding comments now and then, little brother complains about elder's cooking and “unjust lectures”, both of the younger siblings are very curious about Akashi, “I want to be a lawyer too!” the sister interjects, the brother scoffs, they chat a little about life back in the States versus here, surprised to learn that Akashi has visited the US, even more surprised to learn that Akashi has visited many other countries as well, questions about this or that far away place arise and Akashi answers them all politely in few words as he eats his meal.

“You are weird.” Arata comments then out of blue and Nijimura seems ready to headbutt him which is actually stupidly endearing to Akashi for some reason.

“Why do you think so?” the redhead asks before Nijimura can yell at the impoliteness of his younger brother,

“I mean... You’re uber polite and you eat as if you’re in a fancy restaurant or something and… that car! You’re really loaded right? Why are you friends with an ill-tempered and bleak person like aniki?”

“What the--” Nijimura cannot finish his sentence because his sister cuts him off,

“I will have to agree with that too, I mean, I like oniichan and he is okay in his own ways but… really, you look more like ‘the senpai’ than him.”

“I cannot believe this. You too? Really? Does anybody value me in this family?!”

They shrug and Nijimura scowls and his sister jumps at the gesture;

“See – that right there! Look at that weird scowl he wears all the time! Mum says he’ll get wrinkles before he even gets married and then he won't be able to find a wife because, which woman will marry a man who has wrinkles at such a young age?”

Akashi chuckles, a mischievous idea flickers through his mind,

“I’m sure you both know very well the good points of your brother.Making me reveal them so he can be flustered is a rather mischievous plan and I won’t fall for it. Let me just say… I wouldn't mind having a brother like him.”

Nijimura's face turns really sour at that last comment and Akashi smirks, the two younger siblings look at their brother in confusion, unable to understand what part of such a civil compliment actually disturbed Nijimura, which only further deepens Nijimura's frown.

“You’re all insufferable...” he groans.

It is about 7 pm when Akashi leaves their house, Nijimura will stay with his siblings; his mother will come late at night.When they finally have a couple of minutes alone, outside in front of the car, Akashi reminds him,

“Do not be tough on your brother, okay? Be as how your father has been to you.”

“Okay... Um… Sei?”

Akashi holds himself sternly to not smile at the sweetness of the change in tone; it would fluster Nijimura and though the sight would be lovely it would bother the said man for the moment,

“Yes?”

“Thank you.”

“There is no reason to thank me. I am content if I was of any help.”

“You were. A lot.”

“I’m glad. Can I also confess something?”

Nijimura does not ask what was it that he himself confessed, for it to be a matter of“also” – they are both aware of the intimate feelings just bared, the delicate emotions exposed and defenceless,

“Sure?”

“If I could, I would have liked to hold you right now, but I will once you are back home. I promise you, it will be fine, it will be all fine; and you should believe it, since it is I who is promising.”

The statement bewilders Nijimura at first, he blinks a few times, and perhaps it is an odd statement, but Akashi recognises that the sheer difference in the nature of their emotions is an issue in itself and warrants confirmation at times. Love is already a frail creature, a matter of faith; it is more so fragile when the participants’ characteristics are deeply disparate. And just what other occasion to reassure the other, than when he is feeling the weakest, the most uncertain?

Normally, Akashi would have calculated such a move and executed professionally; he is pleased with himself that it came to him naturally at that moment… No prior plan, no calculated gain; just the words appearing in his mind and requesting to be told.

Nijimura nods and clears his throat, “I should be back tomorrow.”

“Have a good night.”

“You too.”

Akashi arrives home more than an hour later.He unlocks the key to his home and finds it not impeccable but not cluttered either – his housekeeper will come tomorrow anyway. He can smell a fading scent of ginger and curry, courtesy of the Singapore-style noodles Nijimura cooked for him the night before. There are two empty glasses of wine in the sink waiting to be cleaned.

And that is when it hits him.

It hits him how his life has come to entangle with Nijimura's so intricately. It hits him how the cynicism of a couple of months ago has faded away almost completely, leaving behind astrong determination and peaceful agreement. It hits him that his solitude does not burden him, but neither the company of another. It hits him that he likes this – this acceptance that includes recognition of how different he is, and that it is okay, it is all right to not be the same yet to be in each other’s lives…

It hits him that he is being loved and he loves, surely not in the same way, surely not in the same tone, surely not in the same shade; yet it is equally beautiful and he is content, very, very content.

It hits him and suddenly he feels better and more powerful than he has in years.

Chapter Text

“Have you found a summer job yet?”

Nijimura shrugs as an answer to the sudden interest in his career. Akashi doesn’t say anything in response for a second or two, carefully and politely chewing his food and speaks only once he has swallowed – Nijimura finds it silly, as if talking his mouth full would kill Akashi or something… though he also finds it endearing, not that he would ever confess it to the redhead.

“Would you like to come with me?”

That was not a question Nijimura expected at all.

He stops eating and sits straight, regarding Akashi as if the man grew a third eye – not that it would surprise Nijimura at this point. Okay, it would. It is still funny to imagine. It would rather fit Akashi though, which is actually terrifying. The surreal ideas flocking into his mind are only equally (un)realistic as the offer he just received.

“Are you talking about your trip?”

“Yes.”

“Is it decided yet? You were saying you weren’t sure where you were going?”

“After some deliberation, it has been decided that I’ll be visiting our major branches in East Asia. Taipei, Seoul, Shangai, and Hong Kong… I am also thinking that I could spare two days or three at the end for a personal trip. Maybe Thailand.”

“And… you want me to come with you?”

“Yes.”

“Wouldn’t it be problematic? I mean it’s a business trip after all…”

“The people I’ll be meeting there will not have the privilege of judging me.”

Akashi says it as though he is talking about the weather. “I heard it will be rainy but warm in Hong Kong”, is as if what he is saying and not how he is at the top of social food chain and nobody has to power to scrutinise him. It perturbs Nijimura slightly, even though he has gotten used to this mostly…

“What about your dad? Wasn’t he the one who is sending you in the first place?”

“Father only wanted me to utilise my free time for networking within our conglomerate. I doubt he would ever take a look at my itinerary or details of my trips… I manage those. In the odd case that he did, I could cover it easily.”

“Like how?”

“Nijimura-san, my father is all right with any decision as long as there is a utilitarian reason for it. He is a pragmatist. It is not that hard to appease him.”

“Are you saying that as long as you came up with a lie that would make him think you are taking me along for an exploitative reason, he wouldn’t care?”

“Precisely.”

Nijimura puts his elbow on the table and rests his chin on his palm; the gesture bothers Akashi’s manners slightly since they are eating on the said table. He is aware of this, yet Akashi does not outwardly chide him so he continues on in that position while absentmindedly stabbing his rice with chopsticks. He sighs then,

“I’m not sure…”

“Is there a reason why?”

“You just asked me to join you on a month long trip abroad.”

“But you don’t have anything meaningful to do during summer anyway. If you are bothered by costs, they will be fully covered by me.”

The comment is honest and… well, truthful. It stings Nijimura regardless, his eyes narrow and he stabs his grilled fish with vigour before almost violently ripping a piece apart and chewing determinedly. He deliberately talks while he’s still chewing, just to grate on Akashi’s nerves;

“Well, maybe I’ll just rest… enjoy the ‘meaninglessness’.”

Akashi’s shoulders slump and his lower lip turns into a small frown. It is a sign of both frustration and anger. The two emotions are always so close when it comes to him. Nijimura has almost never seen them separate; they intertwine and often smell of sadness too.

“In any case,” Akashi insists with a calculatedly calm tone, “think about it. It could be beneficial for you too. I agree that you need rest but you usually get bored after a few days of inactivity. Plus, if you prefer we could pose it as an internship or something in one of our companies so it could look good on your CV.”

“Thank you but I think my CV is fine as it is.”

“As you wish…” Akashi says softly but the coldness and disapproval are evident in his voice.

After the dinner, when Nijimura has time to ponder about the fact again as he puts the dirty plates in the dishwasher, he grudgingly accepts that perhaps he acted rather spoiled. Whatever Akashi’s intent, the offer was… romantic. However the very idea is alien to him, he actually wouldn’t mind travelling… especially with Akashi.

Still, he does not understand the rationale behind the sudden offer nor does he feel inclined to entertain Akashi’s overbearing tendencies. Perhaps, it is time to insist on something futile just to emphasise relationships are meant to be on equal footing; not per the ever-so-eager-to-dominate Akashi’s terms and whims. It is stupid, probably, but there are times even he cannot mute his pride.

There is also the very real problem of being swept away by Akashi: how will he manage being away from everyone and everything he knows and understands? And instead being in a foreign land with just Akashi? It is not the idea of wandering to unknown that causes insecurity; after his shenanigans in the States, he has full confidence in his survival skills despite not knowing native language of any of the countries they would be visiting. But there are other very real issues: what if they fight? If they ever get on each other’s nerves here, they just spend the day apart, or maybe more than a day. He would not be able to do that easily there. He could not ask Akashi to book him another room in the hotel because he does not want to forgive him easily because of Akashi’s infuriatingly beautiful face. He could not ask Akashi to buy him return tickets abruptly because they fought and he would like to be back to Tokyo. If he had the financial security to rely on should any such risk was ever to occur, perhaps he would not feel so threatened by the proposal. It is not often that he realises the majestic gap between them in terms of social and economic standing, not because it is not apparent – it is, in everything Akashi does, even in the brand of ice cream he eats. It is simply that he has grown used to it and does not realise the cliff, unless it is moments like these where the grave possibilities are very real and piss him off endlessly.

He decides to let it go, Akashi probably only asked because he is generous to share his wealth and wanted to give Nijimura a chance to see a part of the world he could not easily afford to. It is nothing important.

In spite of the lack of importance Nijimura has assigned to the matter, the next few days are spent in a cold war of sorts, the reason of which both are aware of but intentionally ignore. He is in the library supposed to be studying but instead wondering on how to balance the first birthday he will experience with both family and a lover to spend with, when he receives an email from Akashi. There are several attached files which turn out to be electronic tickets for several flights. The email politely informs Nijimura that, he should not feel pressured and Akashi simply had to finalise his itinerary for the trip and bought the tickets just in case. The email adds in a subtle emphasis:

“They are flexible, so they can be cancelled or their dates could be changed without any charge by you and the return ticket’s ‘from’ airport can be changed as well, again with no charge.”

He wonders if this is Akashi’s way of trying to comfort him, assure him that he would have ‘space’ even if they went to the trip together. If so, and it is likely so, it is ridiculously sweet, and on the other side it is equally domineering. Especially looking at the numbers a few Google Flights queries bring him: the tickets must have cost Akashi literally a small fortune. He is baffled by Akashi’s insistence, there is a rebellious side of him that thinks, hell, keep silent till the last day and don’t go, burning the tickets despite their ‘flexibility’ just to make a statement. It is childish and he will not do it, he knows, but fantasising about it calms his agitation a little.

Regardless, the fact that he is still very much undecided keeps him from cancelling the tickets, but he does not outright accept them either. In fact, he ignores the email, as if he has not received it. Akashi does not comment on it either when they spend time later. Days continue to pass in languid and deliberate avoidance of the elephant in the room. Nijimura spends his birthday with his family; he sends a picture of his birthday cake to Akashi, it is a silent peace offering of sorts. Akashi seems to accept it, for in return Nijimura receives a selfie from him – Akashi is smiling candidly, and half naked, dripping wet, and obviously fresh out of shower; the picture much in contrast with the polite message that follows it: “Happy Birthday, I wish you a joyful celebration with your family and a long, healthy life.”

The next day, Nijimura leaves his family home right after the breakfast much to his siblings’ protests and mother’s teasing stares despite having promised to have lunch with them before.

A few hours later, he is in front of Akashi’s door and knocks, instead of using the key he carries, and Akashi opens the door in an exquisite yukata with a smug smile on his face, perfectly unsurprised. It is… infuriating, yet exhilarating to the point that his irritation fades away completely as he hurries inside, his arms snaking around his lover’s waist while he shuts the door with his foot.

Akashi hums in satisfaction as he is carried to the bedroom in a not so delicate manner.

Considering the hours spent within each other’s grasp, giggling in joy and moaning in pleasure, an honest return to normalcy, the last topic Nijimura expects to be brought up in the late-lunch-early-dinner meal they have, a delicious take out courtesy of Akashi, is the cause of their previous conflict: the trip.

Akashi’s voice is deceptively unaware of the tension the subject once created between them, as he mentions, almost offhandedly,

“Will you be joining me for the trip? If so, we may want to buy a luggage for you but I don’t think I can spare time for shopping, I will be too busy with my studies near the end of term.”

Nijimura scowls. This time, he decides, he will deal with it like an adult, and puts his chopsticks down in front of him and talks only after he has swallowed his mouthful:

“Okay, what is the deal with this trip?”

“Pardon?”

“I don’t get it. I don’t feel good when you pressure me.”

“I am not trying to pressure you.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that it is bothersome… Look, I just don’t understand why you want me to come in the first place. I know I won’t get another chance to see those countries any time soon but this is sudden and we never even travelled before. Not counting the school trips at Teikou.”

Akashi looks at him with unabashed incredulity, and then furrows his eyebrows, puts his chopsticks down gingerly as he nods at nothing particular. When he starts speaking, he is staring right into Nijimura’s eyes:

“Nijimura-san, I think you have judged this all wrong.”

“What is it then? Why do you want me to tag along in the first place?”

Akashi shrugs, voice calm, face perfectly stoic as he responds,

“I don’t mind travelling alone, though the kinds of functions I’ll be attending will surely make it tiresome. I simply thought it could be a chance too, for the two of us. It would be nice taking a vacation with you. We could sightsee together and you would enjoy the change of air. The whole reason was… well, enjoying our time together?”

If he was not a proud and confident man, Nijimura would gape like a fish. “Why,” he wonders loudly in his mind, “why did I not think of this?!” It is such a natural request, such a perfectly couple-thing that Nijimura never thought it could come from Akashi.

Akashi is waiting for an answer still and Nijimura’s answer has been decided the second Akashi finished speaking his reason, but he cannot help feeling awkward about revealing his sudden turn in decision. “Yes, hell yes then,” somehow sounds pathetic in his ears so he would like to prevent his mouth uttering nonsense of the sort. He shakes his head a few times as if considering and takes his chopsticks back into his hand,

“Okay, I’ll think about it…”

Akashi raises an eyebrow to the response and continues with his eating too, giving no other comments on the matter. A few minutes of pregnant silence later, Nijimura almost whispers,

“No need to cancel the tickets yet though. I’ll do it myself if needed…”

Akashi does not respond again but without even looking Nijimura is certain of the small grin that is creeping up Akashi’s lips. He thinks “it is unfair”; it is unfair that he is so absolutely in love with Akashi, whereas the other can maintain his cool effortlessly.

But then, he confirms once again later that night as Akashi falls asleep on him while they are watching a ‘thriller’, that it is actually fair. Because the feelings never had to be exactly the same and equal in the first place for happiness and he knew it and he knows it, that loving more or passionately is not a weakness or loss… Not at all.

His school work also increases near the end of the term and he does not have time to go to shopping either. Nevertheless, he is not surprised to find a new medium sized luggage standing all mighty and out of place in Akashi’s impeccably decorated living room.

“Ordered it online,” explains his always-thinking-ahead lover, without even batting an eyelash.

The days go in relative peace and quiet when they are together despite how hectic their schedules are when they are not together, which happens to be most of the time. When the term ends, Nijimura is out of job and school for the first time in a long, long time in his life. It is a strange feeling. He feels useless a bit, but not bored because how could he be when Akashi leaves so many pre-trip tasks to him because apparently the little emperor himself is too busy wrapping up at ‘work’ and prepping for… ‘work’. It is amazing how Akashi’s life seems to revolve around the business of Akashi Conglomerate, and perhaps any other lover would mind but Nijimura masochistically commends and accepts Akashi’s workaholic ways. Deep down, he thinks it is a coping mechanism of sorts. A way to deal with the stress of being burdened with great expectations and perception beyond that of most mere mortals.

When the fateful day comes, he realises, he has never told Akashi about his fear of flying. That is why he is slightly surprised, when once in their seats, right before the take-off, Akashi provides him a small bottle of water and a few pills.

“Valerian,” he says, “helps with anxiety.”

Yes, it does. But what helps the most at that moment is the gentle care he receives without judgement. He smiles despite the nervousness filling his gut in the moments before they will be up in the air.

Akashi is normally not one for public displays of affection, neither is Nijimura. However during the flight, Akashi sits close to him, always ensuring some physical contact between them, often holding his hand and whenever there is any turbulence, Akashi draws these soothing circles on his hand or knee or wherever he can reach discreetly. The sensation is both comforting and distracting. Nijimura is thankful of it, even though he does not put it into words (and does not have to).

Akashi is busy within two hours of their arrival to Taipei. It is a whirlwind, almost: they enter the hotel room, Akashi takes a quick shower, changes his clothes, and goes out. He comes back late for dinner and is rather apologetic. The next morning is similar and Nijimura wakes up alone. He sarcastically laughs at his previous worries about too-much-time-together ruining their mood. A couple of minutes later he finds the note on the bedside table informing him that Akashi will come back to the hotel for lunch together. And the name of an app Akashi wholeheartedly suggests for touristic wandering purposes. Nijimura laughs again, sincerely amused this time, because Akashi is trying to be caring but comes off as dominating.

It must be the curse of carrying too huge an ego and too big a title.

The days that follow, regardless of which city they are in, are very similar. They spend about a whole week in each city but perhaps spend at most a day together sightseeing and that is not a whole day in one shot but hours here and there combined that sums to a day. It is not boring though. Nijimura has not vacationed properly in a long time, not since his childhood actually and never overseas like this. Also, never in five-star hotel suits that happen to be larger than his whole apartment back in Tokyo. It is different and he welcomes this change in routine and atmosphere. Akashi has brought a nice DSLR with him for taking photographs but never takes it with him, too busy with work, so Nijimura takes it around during his sightseeing, which is more or less him walking around the city randomly and checking out a few places that he found interesting on the map or various tourism apps now installed on his phone. He takes pictures of historical buildings and interesting street performances. He has never liked taking pictures of himself, so selfies are out of the question, except those rare moments his mother or sister insists via text for him to send some. When Akashi discovers these one night, there is a lot of teasing but considering the daring sex that followed, he is not that much displeased with the whole exposé. They take photographs together too. One in every city. It is Akashi who initiates the first time with a not so-subtle, “would you mind taking a picture of us together?” Nijimura is not sure what is the purpose or if Akashi honestly likes taking pictures together like that, but Akashi saves the photographs in that same folder on his phone where he keeps shots of his beloved mother and horse, hence Nijimura feels elated at the gesture, despite not liking the idea of ‘couple photos’.

He buys small trinkets from every place they go for his siblings and mother. In Seoul, the first time they go out together, Akashi insists on buying a very expensive set of hairpins for his mother and sister, it leads to a rather nasty bickering and then to an even nastier fight. Nijimura separates from him and walks around the city by himself for the rest of the day, getting lost multiple times only to begrudgingly use his phone’s GPS to find his way back to the hotel at evening. Akashi is already in the hotel room once he is back and does not ask where he has been nor does he apologise. Instead, he asks if Nijimura is hungry and well, he is. They go to hotel’s restaurant for dinner and do not talk at all, not about the fight, not about their relationship, not even about the weather. When they enter the bed that night, Nijimura wonders if Akashi is still mad at him, knows that he was right to be angry at the spoiled rich child’s careless antics, and also knows that he could have worded his arguments better, he could have responded more understandingly, he could have been gentler… Then Akashi cuddles a little closer than the normal and holds him a little tighter than usual and Nijimura thinks all is okay. It is indeed okay, he realises the next day as they are back on speaking terms; Akashi cannot easily admit he was wrong or that he is sorry and Nijimura dreams that one day, he will grow out of it too.

The days pass full of new tiny discoveries, new foreign cities to be lost in for Nijimura and mostly work with little sightseeing for Akashi.

What constitutes ‘work’ for the young heir is apparently mostly ‘networking’. It sounds innocuous, so Nijimura has no idea why Akashi looks extremely tired and sometimes even sick after these events. He thinks of asking it once or twice but decides against. It seems like one of those topics that are oddly intimate and he should let Akashi have the space. The fact that he is no good at comforting people by words is a factor too. Relaxing back rubs and long baths take the place of reassuring vocabulary. Akashi is obviously aware but appears content with just this. Nijimura thinks that maybe, maybe again ‘one day’ his impulsiveness will get the best of him and he will explode with questions and demand answers to Akashi’s sudden prickliness at times after work.

At the end, he does not have to.

After a gala Akashi was invited in Hong Kong, he comes back to the hotel room late for dinner and the sun has already set. His face is perfect till the moment he enter the room, when suddenly his nose scrunches, his eyebrows furrow, and he gives a loud sigh. Suddenly, he does not look like a second year university student at the beginning of his life that is pregnant of many opportunities and grand achievements. He looks somewhere between a forsaken child and disillusioned old man. It is anachronistic and bizarre.

“Shūzō,” he says, voice tired and eyes trained on a naked wall, “would you like to visit the Victoria Peak? Have you been there yet?”

He has been. Just that day actually. It is almost ironic because he had felt suffocated in downtown with skyscrapers looming over him constantly like modern gods mocking his infinitesimal existence. He decided then, it would be a great idea to get to the Peak and loom over these gods instead, stand atop and shout out loud. He did not shout, at the end, too conscious of all the other tourists gazing upon the view. Perhaps he is growing old; if Tatsuya was around, he would definitely tease him for being an ‘old man’.

“Yes,” he says as a result because lying to Akashi is the stupidest thing a human being can do, but he chooses to omit the fact that he visited just that day, because there is no reason to emphasise pieces of truth that are not convenient either. He adds a second later, “I’m game though if you wanna go up again, I was wondering how the view would be night-time…”

Akashi nods thoughtfully without a smile but his face relaxes.

Only once they are atop, Akashi loosens up. There are fewer tourists than Nijimura expected; they are still nowhere near alone. Regardless, when Akashi slightly reclines on his side and rests his head on his shoulder, and he can hear the now eased breathing of his lover, Nijimura feels as if they are the only ones left in the world. Then some kid starts crying and the spell is broken. He blushes a little at the fact, luckily Akashi’s eyes are focused determinedly on the view, a valley of pure light and metal.

“They are suffocating,” he says finally, the words come out slow and fatigued from his mouth. When he starts speaking again a second later though, there is an angered hurry in his tone, as if he remembered certain memories that brought fury to him,

“They are pathetic. They have no value other than that they won the Fate’s lottery. Not even the Nature’s; they are not the fittest or smartest or strongest. Just the richest.”

Akashi’s eyes narrow and Nijimura realises that perhaps they are not looking at the same view despite the fact that their eyes follow the same path. That even though they are standing near, even though he can feel Akashi’s body heat, they are in far away places, gazing upon different sights. It feels cold in the middle of a very humid and hot summer night. He slips his hand into Akashi’s, a very rare occurrence in all honesty and perhaps it is this rarity that causes his lover to blink and turn his eyes to him.

Akashi smiles then, forlorn and sympathetic.

“They unnecessarily rile me up.”

“The other rich people? I wouldn’t know, y’know being the peasant I am.”

Akashi chuckles, there is still some bitterness to it though.

“You should not know either… It is not interesting or good. They are not worth it. There is only filth.”

“It couldn’t be that bad…” Nijimura tries only for Akashi to snort all-knowing and almost scorning. Nijimura scowls, is it really that hard for him to understand this particular worry? Probably. He has indeed never been in such a crowd and is sure he would explode into either insults or fits of anger if such circles manage to make even Akashi disturbed.

He wishes he could understand though. He simply cannot. He tries again,

“It is not as if wealth makes people bad, Sei… People naturally have a capacity for evil and good.”

“Precisely. What wealth gives is a greater set of tools to utilise though. How many people could you hurt with a knife? How many people could you hurt with a bomb? It is not as if there are naturally better, kinder people amongst the poor; it is mostly that the wretched simply do not have the same means of impact.

“The wealth adds to the greed too; there is simply more to lose when you are at the zenith so you try harder to keep it that way and those crushed below… People become desensitised to others’ suffering easily if it is for their own sake. The difference is, when you are at the bottom it is about not caring for the baker due to the bread you stole, but at the top it is about not caring for the thousands you are practically enslaving in factories in some desperate corner of the world as you sip champagne in an extravagant gala.”

Moments pass in silence then Akashi slowly rips his hand from Nijimura and takes a few steps forward, his arms cross over his chest, his eyes linger in the view and Nijimura is incredibly curious, where, just where or what Akashi is actually looking at… Because it is obviously not the city rising to reach the sky before them.

“Why does it piss you off though? Okay, they are atrocious people, pitiful. I get it. But you…” his mind races how to put it such that Akashi’s overgrown pride would not take a hit, “you are rarely bothered by people you find pitiful.”

Akashi sighs and smiles. And it is that smile. That particular tiny smile Nijimura would banish to the deepest floors of hell, if he could. It is a dreadful thing, devoid of joy and overflowing with disdainful sarcasm instead; in the slight curvature of the ruby red lips lay a thousand doubts and abhorrence… mostly for himself alone. Sometimes, Nijimura thinks, despite how people describe Akashi as a tyrant (and they are more than a little right in that, he cannot deny), the little emperor is the most zealous to himself alone. It breaks something in Nijimura. He takes a few careful steps next to him and puts his hand softly on his lover’s shoulder. Akashi nods, his lips purse a little as if he just ate a sour thing.

“Power corrupts, Shūzō; the stronger it is, the more it corrupts because the more you have to lose and more you can hurt to not lose. I’m certainly not kind hearted but I like to think that I’m not… that I’m not particularly despicable either. I just sometimes wonder how long… how long will I be able to stay so.”

“Are you afraid of becoming like them?”

“…Eloquence was never your strong suit, was it?”

“I thought you liked me for my near-suicidal bluntness?”

“Sometimes, yes; sometimes, it is very irritating.”

Nijimura slides his hand down Akashi’s arm to his wrist to his hand and touches his fingers with his own. He never twines their hands and when his touches finally end, he takes both his hands into his pockets; a silent distance of mere centimetres between them set, it feels as though they are miles away though. He blundered, sure, for a second there his mind was so caught on, he couldn’t stop to think ‘Akashi-sama’s sensitivity in regards to weaknesses. But it is bullshit, they are both aware.

“Yes,” Akashi murmurs a few seconds later, “yes, actually, I am… afraid.”

Nijimura’s body turns towards Akashi as if a magnetic force pulls him. As if the redhead uttered an ancient chant invoking his purest attention. As if the gravity changed course to direct him.

Nijimura Shūzō has known Akashi Seijūrō for years, as a child, as a man, as a teammate, as a friend, as a lover. Yet Nijimura has never heard him say, not even once, not even in the dingy horror house they once all went as a team back in Teikō, that he was afraid.

It feels like a blasphemy despite the very real knowledge of it, despite that it was said in taintless honesty, despite that Nijimura has always known there were, of course, things even Akashi was afraid of, felt vulnerable to…

“I hope you don’t dare pity me.”

“H-how could I pity you?” Nijimura almost stutters in surprise at the statement, “You are the strongest person I’ve ever seen…”