The second chapter of my AU in which Kuroko died of an illness and Akashi moved on falling in love with Ogiwara, who had helped him taking care of Tetsuya in his last months.
Chronologically placed before Chapter 1. Check it out for the main points of this AU.
Chapter 2
Akashi didn't know what to think when he met those soft hazel eyes. He didn't know what to say, what to do, what was happening.
He didn't even know how he had fallen in Ogiwara's bed screaming loudly Tetsuya's name.
Guilty washed over him like a tsunami, killing all the remnants of sleepy dizziness and post-orgasmic daze, stiffening his body as memories overwhelmed him.
"We will all miss him, Akashi-kun."
He rolled on his back, escaping the stare of the other man and ignoring the way the sweaty blankets clung to his naked legs. He would normally find it gross, but right now he thought the most disgusting thing in the whole room to be he himself.
"Oi, Akashi, hang in there, okay? You know Tetsu would want that..."
Tetsuya would want that, really? Would Tetsuya want for his lover to leave after the end of his funeral and go straight from his grave to another's apartment? Akashi didn't think so.
"Akashicchi, we're all here for you, you know? Do not hesitate calling, any day at any time."
Tetsuya must be so disappointed in him. Such a long time together, the whole war against the disease, all those declarations of love; and Akashi had disrespect them all so blatantly.
"Akashi, whatever you may need, we don't mind helping. Things like these need time to be elaborated..."
Time, yes. He really had needed a lot of time, uh? Ogiwara didn't even had to woo him. He had barely had to go up to him after the ceremony and offer him a ride and Akashi had just told him to drive to his place instead, that was just how cheap Seijuro had been without Kuroko.
"Aka-chin, will you be all right?"
No. He wouldn't. He wasn't.
He pressed an arm askew on his eyes, both his fists clenched as he strived not to cry for something he had only himself to blame for.
"I'm the wor-"
"Don't."
Akashi blinked, turning his head slowly to escape the white wall and lay his eyes on the melancholic face on the pillow just beside his head.
Ogiwara looked tired, but of a deeper kind of tiredness than the simple post-sex exhaustion. His brown eyes were soft but wrinkled at their corners, his lips bent in a self deprecating yet at the same time reassuring smile. Akashi wondered how he could do that.
"You were his boyfriend and you're in someone else's bed on the day of his funeral," Shigehiro stated, merciless, and Seijuro jerked at the pang of pain he felt. "I was his best friend and I'm fucking his boyfriend on the day of his funeral." Those brown eyes went even darker. "I'm not sure which one of us is the worst."
That didn't make anything better, the opposite.
Akashi was never one for weakness, he refused to let anybody see him vulnerable and up until then Tetsuya had been the only one to be allowed to stand with him as he crumbled down to let go of the pressure and the only one to help him rebuild himself. But when Kuroko had been too weak to shoulder anything, barely his own breathing, Seijuro had started building up pressure, pain, fear, desperation, everything he refused to show his lover. And Ogiwara had watched him doing so.
When tears filled his eyes, he hid his face in the other's chest.
Shigehiro held him silencing his own sobs in the vicious grip on his teeth on his lower lip.
"Seijuro-kun, you're not okay, I can see that. Promise me you'll go easy on yourself once I'll be gone, okay?"
Authoress’ notes:
I'll make this a long-fic?, I'll stop here? Who knows...
“Akashi felt his heart lift as he observed Ogiwara's gentle smile and shining brown eyes.”
Some very humble fanart for @akashiseijuro4‘s incredible fic, Recompense! It’s an OgiAkaKuro brot3 about a Secret Santa gift exchange and it is the best. It is adorable and important and also OGIWARA. I rambled a lot about it in this post.
(... Meanwhile we won’t talk about how hard it was for me to draw guys sitting on the floor. Also I congratulate Akashi on managing to look closer to Ogiwara’s height by the way he’s sitting, ’cause you just know he’s a pro at seiza. Note their shirts are Teikou/Meikou colors underneath, because I’m mean/symbolism. Also did I make them look like they’re in love haha WHOOPS you can blame the fic, I didn’t want to ship them, it’s not my fault, Jenny is kind of evil like that)
Anyway, happy belated friendship anniversary, Akashi-kun! Since we met because of an Ogiwara fic you wrote, this seemed like a fitting gift. 🌈❤️
AkaKuro/KuroAka is my OTP, okay, but consider this...
Akashi and Ogiwara having a date in one of those fancy high-class restaurant Akashi is used to and they’re in since ten minutes and Shigehiro’s face is already covered in crumbles and the waiter is glaring at him so hard but he doesn’t even realize and keeps on talking and smiling like a little sun of his own and Seijuro is honestly so amazed the other can turn even that place into something warm and familiar and they start laughing and get kicked out (not really, they leave, nobody would ever dare to kick an Akashi out of anywhere) and end up eating oil-soaked cheap chips at Maji Burger at midnight dressed up in suits, okay, I am leaving, bye.
Kuroko passes by and takes photos for blackmailing material.
For as much as he tried to sound scolding, Akashi couldn’t help the fondness in his voice as he held tightly on the tiny chubby hands of the kid walking in front of him. Well, ‘walking’ maybe was a bit of an exaggeration, but the ten-months-old toddler was putting so much effort in moving his legs on and on, constantly laughing in pure bliss at his accomplishments, that his father couldn’t put him down in any way.
Tetsuo was gurgling satisfied sounds and shaking his hands as if to free them from his dad’s grip, but Seijuro knew better. Last time his son had been so excited, he had ran straight into a piece of furniture as soon as he’d been left to his own.
The kid lift his head and stared at his father’s face with big blue eyes and a tuff of blondish-brownish hair. It was no wonder he didn’t resemble the man since he had been adopted, but in the big size of his sparking eyes Akashi could see another pair of irises, both the same deep blue of cornflowers, and he smiled while bending to smack a loud kiss on the kid’s forehead, making him burst out in loud laughters that filled the house.
Akashi smiled when he heard someone, in the other room, being infected by the powerful laughter, but then Tetsuo resumed his march and he was forced to follow.
“Shall we go to mom, Tetsuo?” he offered, in a attempt to divert the kid’s attention, as soon as he noticed him eyeing the stairs for the upper floor. He was sure they could attempt climbing when his son was a bit firmer on his legs.
Tetsuo probably couldn’t realize how weird the word ‘mom’ could be in a household of only males, but he had attached the word to a face without questions and suddenly he giggled again and changed his direction completely.
Seijuro smiled in spite of his aching back. It had been at least an hour and a half since when Tetsuo had woken up with a desire for adventure and his father hadn’t let go of his hands once, accepting in his mind his fate to be called an overprotective parent once more by Satsuki, when she would come over that night for dinner — with Riko on her tails — and force him to get one desperately needed massage. He knew he was probably exaggerating, but he was always so busy at the companies, working for his father as the man was still so fiercely against him and his new family, that when he could finally get a day off he couldn’t help but spend it with his son. And domestic accidents were the last thing he wanted to deal with.
“Slow down, Tetsuo.” he called, but chuckling a bit, “Mom is not going anywhere.”
Tetsuo made a disappointed noise as he pulled at his father’s hands once more, gurgling something that seemed like a demand to hurry up, and Seijuro rolled his eyes but complied.
He let the kid chose the path and Tetsuo tried to use a hand, even if still engulfed in the man’s one, to point at a pair of sparkling blue eyes and the bright smile of a nineteen-year-old with messy blue hair.
Akashi smiled as he left his son’s hands to pick him up by his waist and carry him. Tetsuo squealed in delight as he reached for his father’s cheeks and tried to grab them — his favorite game as of lately —, Seijuro only absent-mindedly trying to stop him with the hand he wasn’t using to rest his weight on.
Akashi stared at the blue eyes looking over them and smiled a bit, but this time it was different and probably even Tetsuo realized because he stopped playing to turn and watch too.
Tetsuya was beautiful with a hand holding his hair as a strong wind messed them up and the other showing a peace sign, his usually blank face forgotten somewhere on the sand like their towels and bags. The sea beside him was the same shade of his eyes and his hair melted with the background sky, yet he shone in his white shirt and blue swimming trunks. He was so pale he would surely get burned later, but in that moment he looked like the picture of happiness.
Akashi moved his free fingers to his kid’s hair as he kissed his temple, averting his gaze for a bit and bilking maybe a couple times too many. He inhaled deeply, taking in the scent of cookies his son had still on from the early mess of breakfast. He almost giggle at the thought.
“Ma-ma!”
Akashi flinched slightly, his body both shocked yet firmly aware of the precious weight in his arms, and pulled his head back to stare at his kid, who in return was looking at the picture on the drawer, hands pointing at it as if it was the most obvious answer to…who knew which question Tetsuo had felt the need to answer to.
“Ma-ma?” he repeated, this time looking at Akashi for confirmation, arms spread questioningly.
This time, Akashi smiled.
“Yes.” he murmured, ever so slowly, kissing his son’s face once again, cookies scent sticking to him too, “Yes, Tetsuo. That’s Mama.”
He closed his eyes feeling Tetsuo wriggling, happy for the praise, against his chest, then he turned to stare at Tetsuya in that old photo of their teens days. His son took advantage of the moment to turn and leave slobbery kisses on his clavicle, fists pulling at his shirt and revealing more skin.
Akashi let him do, caressing his back with his free hand, as he kept on looking at the picture and the black ribbon adorning it’s corner, even as he heard the muffled sound of socked steps approaching him. Arms circled his waist from behind as soft lips left a — dry — kiss on his left cheek, allowing Tetsuo to keep on mashing his right one with his hands.
“Mama was incredibly beautiful, just like Papa.”
Seijuro savored the contact, instinctively leaning into it for a moment, and allowed it to chase away the familiar old pain of loss. He took a deep breath and mustered all of his strength to move on once more, and to do so he turned.
“You’ve crumbles all over your mouth,” he accused as he brushed his cheek clean and built up a glare that still came out half-hearted when his eyes met the softness of chocolate-colored hair and eyes, “again.”
Shigehiro laughed sheepishly, his voice yet another thing Akashi had leant to love with time, and he scratched his nape not even bothering with an apology. Tetsuo found it all funny and wriggled once more, calling for his “Dad” and his “Papa” and forcing Akashi to fix his grip on him and to get distracted long enough for Ogiwara to slip his hand in his lover’s red locks and met their lips.
With honest feelings, Seijuro returned the kiss.
Authoress’ notes:
I am sorry. So, yeah, if you want to know more:
Ogiwara had a one-sided crush on Kuroko, whose boyfriend was Akashi.
Kuroko was diagnosed with an incurable disease in his twenties.
Both Seijuro and Shigehiro tried their best to be by his side and help him through, but in the end he died after some months (more than a year).
As they both shared love for Tetsuya and spent time with him during the worst moments, Akashi and Ogiwara grew first to accept each other, then close friends when they helped each other after Kuroko’s death.
They fell in love with each other around a year or more after that.
They got married and adopted a kid, whom they named Tetsuo (“Wise Man”) in Kuroko’s memory.
They keep a photo of Tetsuya in their living room and it was Tetsuo who started to call him “Mom”, who knew why, after some time he started calling Ogiwara and Akashi “Papa” and “Daddy”.
Momoi and Riko are a couple, but also all the other members of the GoM are often over to see the kid and help the couple with him.
The Seirin guys basically adopted the two of them through Riko and now Hyuuga and Teppei are like some kind of bickering grandparents fussing over even the littlest thing, like Akashi working too much or Ogiwara and his damn crumbles.
Seijuro and Shigehiro had come to terms with the fact that for the both of them Kuroko is someone they could never forget and they won’t pretend they wouldn’t be together or that they wouldn’t fight each other to have him if he were still alive.
Hola soy el mismo anonimo que te pidio el HimuNiji y el HaiNiji. No te preocupes lo que te tardes esta bien pero queria saber si mejor puedo cambiar lo que te pedi por un drabble de Akashi y Ogiwara (No hay nada de ellos en español!). Gracias! Si quieres hacer luego lo otro no me quejo, jajajaja pero mientras eso para que no te apures, yo espero. Te lo mando a este blog porque creo que este es el que ahora usas para tus fics xD?
¡Hola, anon! Perdona la tardanza, he estado ocupada. Tienes razón, hay muy poco de Akashi y Ogiwara conviviendo, así que con todo gusto te tomo ese request. Perdón que venga hasta ahora a dejártelo -se mata-. Pero creo que llega justo a tiempo por el cumpleaños de Ogiwara.
Otra cosa: lo postee también en FF.net como parte de un reto, espero no te moleste 3
Vencer y perdonar
Ogiwara Shigehiro & Akashi Seijuurou
“Los entrenamientos van bien. Esta vez no dejaremos que Seirin ni ningún otro equipo nos derrote”.
Ogiwara sonrió mientras leía y releía el mensaje que se había desplegado en su pantalla. Era la noche de un viernes muy ocioso, prueba de ello era que estaba sentado frente al computador al mismo tiempo que miraba su teléfono. A la quinta leída del mensaje se dispuso a teclear una respuesta tan rápidamente como se lo permitieron los dedos y la bendita pantalla táctil de su móvil. Las maldiciones de la tecnología, qué se le iba a hacer.
“¿Ah sí? Bueno, pues me muero de ganas por ver ya eso ¡Va a ser épico! Ya puedo imaginarme cómo va a estar el torneo y definitivamente tengo que estar allí”.
Pulsó la opción de Enviar y se permitió ampliar la sonrisa. Ya ansiaba ver en qué iba a resultar el siguiente torneo de basquetbol.
─ ¡Shigehiro! ¡A comer! ─los toques de su madre en su puerta lo sacaron de sus cavilaciones─. Mira, seguro que sigues pegado a ese celular ¡De un tiempo acá mandas demasiados mensajes o a saber qué!
─¡Lo siento! ¡Ya voy! ─la apaciguó abriendo la puerta de la recámara─. Pero no paso tanto tiempo con el celular.
Su madre le dirigió una sonrisa burlona.
─Eso dirás tú, pero desde que hablas de nuevo con Kuroko-kun te hemos perdido por completo. En todo caso mejor dile que venga a pasarse aquí unos días, ya tiene siglos que no lo veo ─chasqueó la lengua y negó con la cabeza─. Venga, ayúdame a poner la mesa.
─Sí ─asintió sin poder evitar reír por el regaño a medias de su madre, quien ya bajaba de las escaleras.
Claro que antes de seguirla escaleras abajo volvió a revisar su celular, ya con un nuevo mensaje.
“Espero que asistas, entonces. Cambiando el tema ¿Qué planes tienes para tu cumpleaños?”
Pffft. No era precisamente con Kuroko con quien había estado compartiendo mensajes, no. Se preguntaba si la invitación de su madre de invitar a un amigo a quedarse a su casa también incluía a Akashi Seijuurou.
“Nada, pero deberías venir a mi casa. No sé si sepas jugar videojuegos, si no, te enseño”.
Observó lo que había escrito y vaciló unos instantes antes de mandar otro mensaje.
“¿Alguna vez has ido en bicicleta a las montañas?”.
Enderezar el camino después de cagarla de la manera más estrepitosa nunca iba a ser fácil, para nadie, no importaba si era el mismísimo rey del mundo. Si lo sabía Akashi Seijuurou.
Y sin embargo, valía la pena el esfuerzo con tal de construir de nuevo. En ningún momento se excusó con sus antiguos compañeros usando el asunto de su doble personalidad como argumento, no ¿Qué caso tenía ya? Ellos mismos se habían dado cuenta del cambio.
─Es gracioso ─comentó a Kuroko cuando tocaron el tema─. Creía tener el control, no sólo de mí mismo, sino de mí alrededor. Pero control era lo menos que tenía.
Kuroko y él contemplaron a toda la nueva y extendida pandilla, reunidos en la cancha de baloncesto callejero, como ya era costumbre cada que tenían tiempo.
─Pero ahora tienes el control de nuevo, Akashi-kun ─observó Kuroko─. ¿Qué vas a hacer a partir de ahora?
Buena pregunta.
─Hacer lo mejor que pueda ─contestó con una sonrisa y la mirada fija en sus antiguos compañeros de equipo─. Hay muchos asuntos por resolver.
Claro que había varios asuntos por resolver. Pero por el momento, un asunto turbio que aún inquietaba en mayor medida a Akashi era Ogiwara Shigehiro y lo que le había hecho en aquel deleznable partido. Y eso no pasó inadvertido por Kuroko.
─Era de esperarse, cinco minutos haciendo bicicleta de montaña y ya lo tienes dominado.
Akashi no se rió por la pulla de Ogiwara, pero no hacía falta; la sonrisa divertida lo delataba.
─Debo admitir que tienes un pasatiempo muy divertido.
Los dos bajaron de la bicicleta para quedarse un momento en el mirador, contemplando el paisaje mientras se hidrataban por obra y gracias de sus botellines de agua. Lo que le gustaba a Ogiwara de ese lugar era la inmensidad de las montañas y el recordatorio de que, pese a ser diminuto ante ellas y deberles respeto a su grandeza, no significaba que no pudiera conquistarlas.
Sí, era un pensamiento tan poético como bobo y rebuscado, pero ¿A quién le importaba? Para él funcionaba esa metáfora.
─Bueno ¿Qué opinas? ¿Te gusta?
─Tienen una vista magnífica ─asintió Akashi.
Ogiwara no quedó satisfecho hasta que escrudiñó la mirada de Akashi y supo que sí, estaba diciéndole la verdad. Desde la primera vez que lo vio supo detectar frialdad e indiferencia en sus ojos, pero ahora… Bueno, los ojos eran espejos del alma. Por mucho que Akashi mantuviera un porte impasible, sus ojos eran los que hablaban lo que él callaba y él ya se había vuelto experto en descifrar lo que quería decir.
─Qué mal que no pudo venir Kuroko ─se quejó Ogiwara, acariciando el manubrio de su bicicleta─. A él también le habría gustado estar aquí.
─Tal vez no vino esta vez ─concordó Akashi─. Pero siempre podemos organizar otra salida.
Qué orgulloso estaba Ogiwara del progreso de Akashi. De estar estancado en un turbio pasado, al fin comenzaba a ver hacia delante.
Primero fue el número telefónico y los ocasionales mensajes. En algún momento esos mensajes se convirtieron en largas charlas hasta que necesitaron echar mano de Skype de vez en cuando.
Cuando eso no fue suficiente, acordaron reuniones en las que acudía ahora Kuroko, ahora los miembros de Rakuzan o incluso el amigo de Ogiwara, Mochida Reiji, quien al principio le miraba con recelo (y con justa razón) pero que finalmente aceptó la presencia de Akashi en las salidas.
Con el tiempo, esas salidas fueron concertadas sólo entre ellos dos.
Pero ser invitado a la casa de los Ogiwara era una cosa totalmente diferente.
─Tienes una familia encantadora.
Eso se lo dijo Akashi a Ogiwara después de que todos los miembros de la familia se hubieran ido a sus respectivas habitaciones. Incluso sus hermanos menores ya se habían ido a dormir, al fin y al cabo, ya era tarde.
─Ahhhh, a veces somos problemáticos, pero así es más divertido ─comentó mientras terminaba de enchufar los controles a la videoconsola─. Gracias, Akashi. Por eso y por venir.
─No, gracias a ti por invitarme.
Akashi quiso decirle muchas cosas más, como que tenía tiempo sin estar envuelto en dinámicas familiares y lo mucho que agradecía a la familia de Ogiwara hacerle recordar lo que era la calidez de una familia unida. Tal vez después de ese fin de semana en el que celebrarían el cumpleaños de Ogiwara, tendría que volver a casa, sí, pero mientras…
─Nada. Y creo que a mamá la tienes encaprichada contigo ─Ogiwara le dio una palmadita al suelo para indicarle que se sentara allí con él─. Ya veo venir los comentarios de la semana “Shige, tu amigo Akashi es tan educado, invítalo más seguido y fíjate a ver si puedes aprender algo de él”. Sí. Eso será lo que dirá.
Akashi rió y tomó el control, observando cómo el juego arrancaba en la pantalla del televisor.
─Sería muy amable de parte de tu madre decir eso.
Y sí. Le encantaría ser invitado más seguido a esa familia. Jamás iba a reemplazar la que él perdió, pero durante unos momentos era parte de ello y eso era suficiente.
Ogiwara Shigehiro era del tipo de personas que creían firmemente que todo en la vida tenía una razón de ser.
¿Qué en el pasado Akashi Seijuurou y su séquito del mal le habían destrozado y pisoteado sus sueños y esperanzas? Sí, bueno, esas cosas pasan. Y si no hubiera sido de esa forma quién sabe si habrían llegado a ese punto: Kuroko, su querido amigo Kuroko, festejando con su nuevo equipo y la Generación de los Milagros ya reformada y dispuesta a retomar el camino del bien.
Incluso él había sido invitado a esa reunión en la que todos se disponían a jugar basquetbol para pasar un buen rato. Aunque al final de cuentas no pudo mantener el ritmo de los genios, optando por sentarse un rato a observar y animar el partido. De verdad que todo iba a pedir de boca.
Así que no. Jamás cambiaría lo que había sucedido. Al final todo valió la pena.
─Ogiwara Shigehiro ¿Cierto?
No es que Ogiwara fuera una persona rencorosa, no, mucho menos desde que Kuroko le había resumido el porqué del cambio de sus compañeros de prodigios a patanes. Pero claro que ver a Akashi, el autor intelectual de su tragedia, le echó limón a una herida que aún escocía.
Aun así, le sonrió.
─¡Claro! Y tú eres Akashi ¿No? Tiempo sin hablar.
Apenas dijo eso y se arrepintió de haberlo hecho. Claro que la última y única vez que hablaron no habían terminado en buenos términos.
─Así es ─asintió Akashi, quien de repente parecía tenso de más─. ¿Tienes un minuto para hablar?
─Eh, vale ¿De qué se trata?
¿Qué podría querer Akashi de él? No tenía ni idea. Pero conforme la incomodidad de ambos comenzaba a alcanzar niveles críticos, entendió qué era lo que debía estar buscando.
─Quería discutir un tema contigo… sobre el pasado ─comenzó al fin, haciendo una pausa antes de proseguir─. Respecto a mis actitudes hacia ti, para ser más específicos.
Sí. Era precisamente lo que había sospechado.
─ ¿Ah? ¿Para qué?
De todas las cosas que pudo haber dicho, esa pudo haber sido una respuesta que Akashi no había contemplado. O al menos eso podía deducir a juzgar por esa fugaz expresión de sorpresa que le había cruzado por el rostro antes de desvanecerse, tan rápido como había aparecido.
─No entiendo tu pregunta ─le dijo con tanta cortesía que Ogiwara no pudo evitar reír.
─Bueno, es que yo no entiendo a qué viene esto ¿Para qué quieres hablar del pasado? ─le preguntó divertido─. Sí, ya sé que es algo que hay que cerrar y eso. Pero ¿No crees que sea mejor hacerlo con acciones?
─Acciones…
Y bien, ahora la cara de Akashi era todo un poema.
─Sí, acciones. He visto el cambio ¿Sabes? ─se encogió de hombros, alcanzando el almuerzo que había llevado para compartirle una bolita de arroz─. De tu parte y de los demás.
Ambos desviaron la mirada hacia el juego que aún se desarrollaba en la cancha, en el momento justo para ver a Aomine Daiki y Kagami Taiga discutiendo a saber qué cosa estúpida, mientras Kise Ryouta gritaba a saber qué cosa. No era el mejor ejemplo de armonía y sana convivencia, pero allí estaba, expresada a cómo podía esa rara mescolanza de gente que dejaba de lado malas mañas.
─Entiendo tu punto ─asintió Akashi, sonriendo al ver a Kuroko atacar por sorpresa los costados de sus amigos para meter un poco de orden a la reunión─. Y acepto tu sugerencia. Por cierto, tienes un grano de arroz pegado a la mejilla.
Más tarde, cuando Ogiwara le contó a Kuroko los pormenores de esa corta pero relevante charla con Akashi Seijuurou, no encontró rastros de sorpresa en el rostro de su amigo de la infancia.
¿Quién sabe? A lo mejor todo el tiempo había sido plan de Kuroko.
─¡Ya casi llegamos a la cima! ¡Eh, venga, hay que pedalear más rápido!
Akashi observó la espalda de Ogiwara Shigehiro pedaleando por la cuesta para llegar a la meta y lo siguió sin detenerse a pensarlo. Porque confiaba en él, porque era su amigo, porque le había enseñado que la victoria y el perdón no estaban peleados. Le había enseñado que el pasado era simplemente eso: un recordatorio de que las cosas podían mejorar si seguías hacia adelante.
Casi podía jurar que lo estaba guiando hacia el futuro.
Summary: "So... it has come to this, Officer Aomine." The tealheaded hitman turned to face his enemy, blood smearing his beautiful pale face. The policeman's eyes tripled in size, clearly surprised. "T-Tetsu-sensei?"
