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Feb 15, 2015

Donut Hole

Title: Donut Hole Pairing: Akashi Seijuurou x Furihata Kouki Word Count: 9,446 Notes: Inspired by Tuki’s art. Thanks to both secrettemplars and fuwacchi for reading over and helping me with the rest of it. It was supposed to have a sad ending but these two pushed me to go for a happy one, so here you are! Happy Valentine's Day, Akafuri edition~ Summary: A story where Akashi no longer remembers Furihata.

He loved being with his partner, but he had also known it wouldn't—no, that it couldn't last, not forever anyway. Status wasn't the only thing that divided them—his partner’s father was especially not fond of the idea that his son was dating a second-rate nobody—and a male, at that. It was disgraceful.

There were many times where the brunet had been told to leave, ranging from vague warnings to clear threats against his well-being. He had refused many times,for his feelings had remained strong, but being constantly hounded by the disapproving figure definitely worn him down.

And then, during one of his lows, Kuroko happened to reveal the truth of Akashi’s past in middle school. It was during that time Furihata discovered there was another side to his partner he hadn't been aware of. And there was a possibility of that side resurfacing—a possibility that other side would not know him.

His heart had clenched painfully at that thought, and he wanted badly to dismiss it, but Akashi’s father (who remained relentless in his demands) stood out clearly in Furihata’s mind. Foolishly, he impulsively decided that he would remove himself from his boyfriend’s life in the event that such a thing would come to pass.

“Of course it won’t,” he told himself while staring up at his white ceiling. “Don’t be stupid.”

Such things surely couldn't happen in real life.

He had been wrong.

Furihata didn't remember much of what happened after their victory in the Winter Cup. His mind had been too fixated on the way twin red eyes had met his own for a second… and moved on. In that instant he knew his worst fears had been realized.

Akashi no longer remembered him.

Of course his foolish promise surfaced to the front of his mind at that time. He didn't have to go through with it. He could fight for the right to be by Akashi’s side. But he soon realized how futile and pointless it would be. He didn't know the first thing about the other Akashi, and now that the redhead no longer remembered about his lover, his father would be no trouble keeping Furihata away from the premises.

It was like that Furihata found his first relationship slipping away and out of his reach. That whole night, instead of celebrating he packed everything that reminded him of Akashi into a box and put away in the farthest corner of his closet. The only thing he decided not to hide away was the stuffed lion plushy Akashi had won for him at the amusement park shooting booth and the small lion charm that was attached to his phone strap.

He had cried during the whole process and didn't stop even after he had run out of things to pack. And the next morning he deleted Akashi’s number.

He had lost the Winter Cup—and despite not winning, felt liberated in the heat of the moment. They had lost but he had gained—both control and sight of himself. Still, he couldn't help but feel apprehension during the ride home, made all the more tangible with the knowledge that his father would be, for once, home and waiting to have dinner with him.

He wondered if his father knew of his game’s result. But it was a foolish thought. Of course he knew.

“Welcome home, young master. Your father is waiting for you in the dining room.”

He gave the maid his bag and coat before entering the dining room where his father was already seated at one end of the long table.

“I heard you lost your match today,” his father remarked, closing and setting aside his newspaper like Seijuurou knew he would.

“We lost, but it was by a very close margin. We will improve further, I assure you.”

“I do recall we had an agreement on that matter… However, as you have continued to excel in all that I expect of you, I am willing to allow you to continue with your club activities.”

Seijuurou didn't know what to say to that—it was so contradictory to what he knew of his father. But he didn't want to question the reason for his father’s sudden generosity. “Thank you Father. This means a lot to me.”

Food was served soon after and Seijuurou dived into the meal, eager to pass by the disturbing feeling of bonding with his father. While Seijuurou ate, Masaomi gave quiet instructions to the maid, who scurried away when he was finished. They ate for a few more moments in silence, unable to carry out simple conversations (or as the father liked to put it—meaningless chatter that took away from the meal). Which was why even dinner time was another opportunity for business within the Akashi household.

“I've been invited to dinner with the CEO of Takeda Corporation tomorrow night. He’s expressed an interest to meet you, so I expect you to return early tomorrow.”

“Yes Father.”

“And I've also set up an omiai for you this Saturday at one in the afternoon.”

Seijuurou frowned. “Father, I believe I have expressed to you that I do not wish to attend any more omiais for the duration of my time in school.”

“Yes, but she’s the daughter of an important acquaintance, so I’d like you to go.” At Seijuurou’s disapproving frown, Masaomi said, “Well, it’s not as if you’re already involved with someone at the moment, are you?

“Yes, but—” His father’s slight smile goes unnoticed. “—you already said you wouldn't push any more offers onto me.”

“I don’t think attending one omiai will change anything,” his father responded dryly. “Considering the outcome of your match today, fulfilling my request is the least you can do.”

Any other words of protest died in Seijuurou’s throat. “As you wish Father,” he said resignedly.

It was a few minutes after he had finished dinner that he had excused himself from the table and returned to his room, his mind still focused on the conversation that had just taken place. He had never liked omiais, but the irritation he felt of being forced to go was quite unlike anything he had ever felt before. Instead of going to an omiai, he would much rather go on a date with—

Seijuurou’s thoughts halted.

Wait. What did he just think? Go on a date? With who? But no matter how hard he tried he couldn't think of a name, couldn't figure it out.

Perhaps his mind was playing a trick on him. He couldn't very well ask his brother either—after he had resurfaced, his other self had fallen back into a deeper sleep, and was in the process of assimilating with him.

Seijuurou entered his room and couldn't help feeling unsettled. His room looked no different from what he remembered with a few changes here and there. And yet he felt certain something was missing. There was an itch to search, but he didn't even know what he was searching for. In all honesty, he just felt tired from the combination of the day’s events and returning to his body.

He returned to his life as if nothing has changed and solidifies his rapidly returning memories. And yet, even though things are going well, just like when he had walked into his room, he felt something was missing. But he couldn't put a finger on it. He wanted to ask his teammates, but he could not find the right words to express himself. So he did nothing about it.

“My mother wishes for my marriage into your family,” the girl begins straightaway as soon as they have been seated. They are on the last segment of this arrangement, and in half an hour they will part ways. “This is not my own desire, but I am willing to agree to such a match in order to get her off my back.”

“What action of yours is your mother interfering with?” Seijuurou asked, polite yet curious.

“I am searching for someone. My lover.” Her gaze fell towards the window. “It’s shameful to say it, but I can’t remember who they are. The only lead I have to go on are some feelings and incomplete memories.”

Akashi was stunned. She had just put into words what he had been feeling for the past couple of days, but was unable to understand.

“I…I think I am looking for someone too.” His voice seemed distant to his ears as if he had not spoken at all. But he had, and his words captured her attention immediately.

“What happened to them?”

“I don’t know. I can’t remember anything… but I believe this person had been very important to me. I have not been able to gather any clues though. Perhaps we had a secret relationship. It doesn't seem unlikely.”

“Fate has brought us together, it seems. We need not agree to this match but I would not be opposed to meeting with you again, if only to inform you of my progress.”

“As would I.”

They shook hands and went on their separate ways.

He’s starting to remember more now. One thing he’s noticed is that all these new memories revolve around a brunet. He assumes this must be his important person.

Try one more time, a hundred times,

All I remember is your face

And yet you yourself, I'm not sure why,

But I still can't remember you...

Asking other people only led to dead ends.

No one he knew matched the description in his head, and the features itself were so plain that he couldn't see himself finding them among thousands of other people.

There were no clues in his room despite the fact they had been together for a long time.

There were no new phone contacts either.

“If I only had a name,” he was often heard muttering to himself. “Surely someone has to know.”

It had been arranged that Rakuzan would play a practice match against Touou. Because Seijuurou had to settle a last-minute matter, he was running late. As he stepped off the train onto the platform, someone brushed past him in a hurry to board. Out of his peripheral vision he saw brown hair and brown eyes.

It couldn't be.

He turned, arm outstretched, a word hovering on the tip of his tongue.

The boy was gone, vanished with the crowd, and soon the train was on its way.

He was left feeling unsettled for the rest of the day.

“You called for me, Akashi-bocchan?” The elderly woman asked, closing the door of Seijuurou’s bedroom shut behind her.

“Saotome-san.” The redhead was sitting on his bed, a frown marring his perfect features. “I have a problem and can think of no other person than you, who might have the clues to solve it.”

“What is it?”

Seijuurou took a deep breath. “Please. Answer me truthfully. Was I involved with someone romantically recently?” His eyes searched hers desperately. “As the person who has been by my side all this time after Mother’s death… if I had confided in anyone… it would have been you. Sao-san, please, tell me.”

She took a seat on the chair by his desk. “Your father would be upset if he knew I was telling you about this,” she began. “But you have a right to know.”

“Father… knew I was involved with someone?” Seijuurou was stunned at the knowledge.

“Yes. He found out some time after you two had gotten together and has expressed his disapproval countless times, but you have ignored it many times over. When you reverted back to your original personality after the basketball game, he had hoped that you would forget your partner. He was extremely pleased when you did.”

“Father… what did he do?”

“He ordered all evidence of your relationship with that young boy to be destroyed. Even the contents of your phone would be purged. He wanted you to never remember.”

Seijuurou found a pool of rage begin to coil in his stomach.

“However, I arrived in time to save what would have been destroyed. I will fetch it for you if you wish.”

Hearing that, his anger dissipated, relaxing. “I… would like that very much.” Her kindness always touched him, and gratitude awashed over him. “Thank you for telling me Sao-san. There’s one more thing I must ask you.”

“What is it, Akashi-bocchan?”

He hesitated, unsure, but mustered his courage. “What was his name?”

“Furihata Kouki.”

Now that he had a name, it was easy to place the brunet. Actually, he had never been that far away from him at all, especially in the world of basketball.

He was on Kuroko’s team.

Seirin’s number twelve.

“Furihata-san?”

The brunet turned around—and froze upon seeing Seijuurou’s face. When he recovered from his shock, his expression turned curious.

“Yes? Can I help you?”

Seijuurou’s voice constricted in his throat. “D-Do you recognize me?”

Wide-eyed the brunet slowly nodded. “Um, yes… You’re from Rakuzan right? We played a match against you in the Winter Cup.”

Seijuurou wanted to pull his hair out. “No, that’s not what I mean…” he grit his teeth, frustrated. “What I want to ask is… were we together? Before? As a couple,” he added, hurriedly, trying not to scare the other off yet trying to make his point clear. He was far from the composed young master of the Akashi household.

The brunet let out a confused laugh. “Um, what? Sorry I don’t understand what you mean. I barely know you, except for basketball.” He gave the other a pitying look. “Are you mistaking me for someone else?”

Seijuurou’s heart beat around in his chest painfully. It… wasn't supposed to happen like this. The face he was looking at was right, but… everything else was wrong.

He didn't know what to do.

The brunet’s cellphone beeped with a message. “Crap, I’m late!” he exclaimed unhappily. “I have to go now. I hope you find who you’re looking for.”

What?

He was leaving?

Just like that?

But he hadn't found out anything yet!

He couldn't go!

He wouldn't let the other disappear from his life again!

“Wait, Kouki, please wait.” Seijuurou pleaded, gripping the other’s wrist, the name slipping out without his realizing it. The brunet stopped but the redhead couldn't see his expression, only his back.

“Please let go,” Furihata said in a low voice, eyes focused on the ground.

“Can we just talk? Please, give me a chance to explain.”

“I’m not the person you’re looking for, so leave me alone already!” He shouted, turning on Seijuurou. Taking advantage of the redhead’s shock he tore his wrist from the other’s grip and ran away, disappearing into the crowd, leaving Seijuurou standing stunned in the middle of the sidewalk.

The door slammed shut and Kouki threw himself onto his bed, sobbing deeply into his pillow. He had been so surprised to see Akashi that he had almost lost his composure. But he kept it, even though the red eyes that met his had been so vulnerable and lost.

It had hurt him to lie to Akashi like that. He never thought he would ever yell at the redhead in that kind of way either.

It didn't help that Akashi’s pained expression kept popping up in his mind, tormenting him further.

But even if he felt this way, there was nothing he could do.

After Akashi had lost his memory and Kouki had already resolved to forget about him, he had received a phone call from an unknown number. He should had known better than to pick it up, but worried it could be important, answered it anyway.

Recalling the contents of that phone call still chilled his very bones. It made him tremble with an unsettling fear, an intangible pressure made all the more suffocating now that Akashi had found him.

He could only hope against all hope that Akashi would give up and not pursue the matter further.

Squeezing his beloved lion plushy tightly, he soon drifted off into an uneasy sleep.

“He doesn't remember you anymore. He will never remember you again. Do not contact or attempt to contact him in any way. If you dare, I promise you will regret it for the rest of your life. Do you understand what I am saying? I will end you and every single member of your precious family. I will ensure that your lives will be miserable for the next ten generations. This is your last warning. Do not ever go near my son again."

Seijuurou was restless.

His mind had been unable to keep the scene from replaying every time he closed his eyes.

“I’m not the person you’re looking for, so leave me alone already!”

The brunet’s last words kept echoing in his mind.

Had he been wrong? Could he really have mistaken the other’s identity?

Seijuurou didn't want to believe it though. Looking through the box Saotome had salvaged for him, pictures of the brunet were exactly the same as the person he had met. But then why had he said those words?

Seijuurou just didn't understand.

“Pardon for my tardiness.” He slid into the seat across from waiting girl.

“No worries,” she said, daintily biting into a piece of the small cake she was eating. “Have you found who you’re looking for?”

Seijuurou cut a piece for himself when she offered it towards him. “I did. But… he didn't remember me. I admit, I am unsure how to further proceed.”

“Oh?” She raised an eyebrow elegantly. “Tell me how it went.”

Seijuurou quickly recounted the event. “Could I have been mistaken? But I was so sure it was him…”

“You know, he could have also lost his memories. Accidents do happen, unfortunately.” She touched the back of her head lightly.

“What about you, Shigyou-san? How has your progress fared thus far?” He asked, turning the conversation.

“Not much better than yours, I’m afraid. But I found out where I had been staying before I lost my memories, so I’m going there tomorrow.” Her eyes flickered to the window. “To Switzerland.”

“It’s a big country. Where will you start?” Like Seijuurou himself, she had very little clues, and her mother was a hindrance to her plans.

“The destination is a part of my school’s study abroad program. They’re bound to have a record of my time in that country.”

“Let me know if I can be of any assistance,” Seijuurou told her. “It would be a small matter, after the advice you have given me.”

“I will say the same to you. And do not give up in your endeavors, either. There should be a logical explanation to his words.” She sipped her drink lightly. “Perhaps he was lying. One cannot know until one asks.” She stood up. “Good luck, Akashi-san.”

“As to you, Shigyou-san.”

Kouki was very dismayed to see Akashi standing outside of his school’s gates.

“You again? What do you want?” He asked, keeping the tremble from leaking out into his voice. This was third occasion he had encountered his ex-boyfriend and he wasn't sure how long he could keep up feigning indifference.

“Give me a chance, please.” He was persistent, annoyingly so.

“Akashi-kun? What are you doing here?” Kuroko asked from behind Kouki, scrutinizing his former teammate carefully. “I do hope you’re not harassing my teammate.”

“Actually he is,” Kouki interjected before Akashi could speak. “He’s mistaken me for someone else and I can’t get him to stop following me around. Can you do something about it?” he whispered quickly into his teammate’s ear.

Kuroko flicked an eye at Akashi. “A case of mistaken identity?” he inquired, curious.

Akashi shook his head. “No, that’s not true.”

“Yes, it is, and I don’t want you harassing me anymore!” Kouki took the opportunity to run away from the two, confident that Kuroko would stop his former teammate from following him.

He was correct, of course.

“Akashi-kun, perhaps you can explain the situation to me?” Kuroko’s smile was innocent enough, but one could not mistake his threatening aura for anything less.

“Let me get this straight. You believe your other half was involved with Furihata-kun. And you want to get back together, but he has been avoiding you like the plague.”

Seijuurou winced. He had forgotten how blunt Kuroko could be. “You don’t have to put the matter so crudely, but in essence, yes. That is the gist of it.”

“Do you have any evidence? I find this extremely hard to believe.”

“Here,” Seijuurou passed him some pictures he had been carrying with him. “Do they look altered?”

Kuroko’s expression, unfortunately, was unreadable as ever. Damn misdirection. “How curious. I can confirm that this is Furihata-kun and yourself in these photos. But I do not recognize any of those occasions. It would not surprise me to find out your relationship had been a secret.”

“Kuroko, will you help me? Can you ask Furihata to hear me out?”

Kuroko nodded. “I believe so. I’m rather curious about the matter myself.”

Kouki was rather dismayed when he was called out to meet Kuroko the next day and found Akashi seated beside his teammate.

“Hear him out this once, Furihata-kun. Please.”

Kouki kept his gaze down at the table. He really, really didn't want to do this. But he couldn't bring himself to refuse Kuroko either.

“Fine. But after that I want nothing to do with you, got it?” He told Akashi in a hardened voice. He had to ignore the hurt in those red eyes – he couldn't give in so easily!

“…Fine,” Akashi said, clearly unhappy with Kouki’s demands, but willing to compromise. After their drinks were delivered Akashi began explaining his situation.

“I've been recalling several memories from the past year. As I’m sure Kuroko has told you, I am the original personality of the identity known as Akashi Seijuurou, who has resurfaced during our match at the Winter Cup. These memories are from my other self, who has been assimilating back into me. Most of the memories my other self holds involves you, Furihata-san. It is my understanding that we were intimate with each other, as more than just friends. This was over a long period of time, not just a one-time occurrence.”

Kouki stirred the ice with the straw in his drink. He still wasn't looking at Akashi, even though he clearly felt four eyes boring into his head. So Akashi remembered bits and pieces of their time together. That didn't change anything.

“I can’t understand why you don’t seem to be remembering anything about us, though.” Akashi continued after it became clear that Kouki wasn't going to speak. “Have you been in an accident causing memory loss recently?”

“No, I didn't lose my memory. Honestly, Akashi-san, I think your mind is fabricating this fantasy to cope with the trauma you’re suffering from. I have never seen you in any setting other than on the court. Please re-think this matter carefully. I believe you’re confusing me with someone else.”

“I have picture proof of our times together. Photos that were clearly taken with our consent,” Seijuurou couldn't help the tremor in his voice. Despite trying to stay composed, he was slowly starting to unravel. He pushed the envelope across the table.

“There is nothing that can’t be altered with the right program.” Kouki said with crossed arms. He refused to touch the envelope, and it sat there, an unopened white rectangle on the dark brown table.

He turned his eyes to Kuroko who sat on the other side of Akashi. “Can I go now?”

Kuroko frowned and shook his head. He thought his teammate was being unnecessarily cruel. “Please wait Furihata-kun. I don’t believe the matter is finished. I have seen the photographs, and they all look genuine. Can you at least look through them?”

Kouki refused. “I’d rather not see what I’m doing in those pictures thank you very much. For all I know, I could be naked or wearing something embarrassing, and frankly, that would be scarring.”

“Why don’t you ask a question, Furihata-kun?” Kuroko suggested, hoping to ease the tension at their table. He could see Akashi becoming distressed, and it unsettled him, not that he would admit it.

“Okay. Where did we first meet then?”

“At a bookstore in Akita,” Akashi responded immediately. “I was supposed to visit a new restaurant with Murasakibara but I arrived early and decided to wait for him in a bookstore. You bumped into me as you walked down the aisle and we then we got into a conversation about Fujimaki-sensei’s new work.”

Kouki was surprised by how much his ex-boyfriend remembered, but was careful not to show it. “Wrong,” he said. “We first met at the Winter Cup where you almost stabbed Kagami’s eye out with scissors. Our second encounter was during the final part of the tournament, where our team beat yours. We have never met outside of these two occasions.”

Seijuurou was deeply frustrated. Their answers didn't match up, but his gut told him that he wasn't wrong. What could he possibly be overlooking? At that moment, some words floated into his mind.

“Perhaps he was lying. One cannot know until one asks.”

“Furihata-san,” Seijuurou began slowly. “Is it possible that you are lying to me?” He kept his eyes locked onto the brunet, intent to not miss even a single reaction.

Those brown eyes caught by surprise widened by a fraction of a second. He was quick to recover, but Seijuurou already had his answer—he could read it in the way those brown eyes kept averting away from his intense gaze, a tell the other had never been able to correct.

“No, of course not.” The answer was too quick, agitated.

“Why are you lying?” Kuroko voiced the question in Seijuurou’s stead – it seemed he also knew his teammate rather well.

“I’m not,” Furihata was quick to deny, but he wasn't fooling anyone. The tables had turned – he no longer had the upper hand.

“What are you hiding from me? What is it that prevents you from telling me the truth?” Seijuurou’s voice was quiet, concerned, but most importantly, back in control.

“Nothing!” Kouki couldn't take the interrogation anymore. He knew if this carried on he’d break and expose everything. He’d get caught but he refused to let that happen. Kouki stood from the table and glared at them when they began to mimic his movement. “I've heard your side of the story but my opinion hasn't changed. You’re delusional! Don’t come near me again or I’ll call the police!” Kouki quickly turned his back on the pair and leaves the building, not daring to look back or hesitate in his movements for even a second.

Seijuurou felt stunned and numbed. Distantly he registered Kuroko’s voice trying to comfort him, but he could only focus on the memory of Furihata’s face from that moment. The brunet had been surprised and angry. But there also had been a minuscule trace of fear.

What could have been the cause of this fear?

“Kuroko, thank you for your concern and assistance,” he said abruptly, turning to his friend. “I will handle matters from here.” He reached across the table to pick up the white envelope, tucking it back within the folds of his clothes.

Kuroko wasn't convinced by Akashi’s words but he wasn't going to call him out on it either. “Will you be alright?”

“Absolutely fine.”

The days passed by quickly after that meeting. True to his word, he didn't come into contact with Furihata after their exchange – he was determined not to agitate the brunet more than necessary. And Seijuurou had already decided he wouldn't do anything until he uncovered more information.

It was a question he had been unable to answer.

Why had there been fear on Furihata’s face? He was certain this was linked to why the brunet was lying about not knowing him, but he couldn't very well ask himself.

Making a decision, he tapped a few keys on his phone.

Furihata had been avoiding him. It was understandable considering what had happened, but Tetsuya knew it was only a matter of time before the other would forgive him. Outside of basketball, they were rather close friends, and he didn't want the other to handle such a situation by himself.

Tetsuya still felt a sting of disappointment towards himself for not noticing when the brunet and redhead had gotten together. How had his sharp eyes missed this type of development?

“Furihata-kun, can we talk?” They were getting ready to close up the library, reshelving the last of the books still remaining on the wheeled cart. Everyone had already left, save the two of them.

“What is there to talk about? You made me talk with your crazy ex-teammate!”

Tetsuya frowned at the words but did not let it deter him. “Furihata-kun, I’m sorry. I didn't know it would turn out like that.”

“Does it even matter? I’ll forgive you as long I never have to see him again.” Furihata turned to Kuroko. “I know you have some degree of influence over him, Kuroko. Surely you can do even this one thing for me?”

Tetsuya hated the feeling lumping in his throat. After all, he had come with the intention of asking on behalf of Akashi, even though a part of it stemmed from his own curiosity. “I would… but I feel there was some truth in his words,” he began carefully.

Furihata cut him off. “I thought so. Even though we’re friends, your teammates at Teikou still matter more to you, don’t they?” He turned away, picking up the last book on the cart.

Tetsuya was shocked by Furihata’s hurtful words. “That’s not it!” he replied frantically. “Furihata-kun, it’s not like that, I swear! I’m just concerned—“

“I know, but you can keep that concern to yourself!” Furihata forcefully placed the book back in its rightful place. “My business is my own, and I don’t need you spying on me for Akashi, okay?”

Kouki grabbed the cart, hurriedly rolling it away while his friend was still stunned. The words he had been forced to say hurt him deeply, but he had no choice when the other was being so persistent. ‘Kuroko, Sei, please just give up already. I don’t want to hurt you guys anymore.’

His thoughts were interrupted by the vibration of his phone, and he quickly fished the device out of his pant pocket. Seeing the caller ID he hastily answered it.

“Hello? Kaa-chan? What’s going on?” Kouki answered quickly, his worst fears coming to the front of his mind.

“It’s your brother… he…”

“Nii-chan?” he cried out in distress. “Kaa-chan what happened to Nii-chan??” Abandoning the cart in the middle of the library he ran out of the building, everything else fleeing from his mind.

“How was it? Were you able to ask him?”

Kuroko’s voice was quieter than usual. “I think it would be best if you were to find out this information on your own, Akashi-kun.”

Something had happened. Kuroko might not have said anything, but he knew how to read the silence, the almost-invisible quiver in the other’s voice.

Seijuurou closed his eyes. “Forgive me. I have put you in a difficult position.”

Kuroko chose not to respond to his observation. “There is only one tidbit of information I have that may be of use to you. With your resources, I am sure you can find out more on your own.”

“I appreciate it.”

“Furihata-kun’s brother is in the hospital.”

As Kuroko had said, it was easy to find out information on Furihata’s older brother. He had been able to obtain the other’s medical record as well as details of his accident. The older brunet had been on his way home since his school let out for break, but had stumbled in the way of a turning car when he was waiting for the crosswalk light to light up.

Thankfully his injuries were only minor (if you called a broken leg minor), but Seijuurou knew that it could have easily been a very different outcome. He had been very lucky.

The young Akashi heir was leaving his room when he happened to hear his father’s voice downstairs. It was low, so he wouldn't be able to hear more unless he went closer. He didn't have a habit of spying on his father nor did he care too much for listening to more business negotiations, but he knew for a fact that his father wasn't scheduled to be at the manor until later in the evening. And as a workaholic, any free time he had available was put to improving the company. Seijuurou could count on his fingers just exactly how many times his father returned home from work early without focusing immediately on another assignment. Which was why he carefully inched closer, staying in a spot that guaranteed he would be able to hear his father’s conversation without giving away his presence.

“…demonstration, though we both know what I’m capable of. I did warn you to stay away from my son.” Seijuurou could hear his father’s smirk oozing from his words. “Next time you may not be so lucky. Keep that in mind.”

That… sounded strange. Was his father threatening someone? Someone who had a connection to him, it seemed, but he hadn't been in contact with a stalker or anyone hired by a rival company, so who could it be? Seijuurou wanted to dismiss what he had overheard, but the conversation as a whole was too strange to ignore.

The thought occurred to him when he was heading down the stairs an hour later. His realization nearly made him miss the next step, but his quick reflexes allowed him to catch the banister in time before he could be sent rolling down the long case of stairs.

His phone buzzed with a text, interrupting his train of thought. It was from Shigyou.

<<Can you get me her address? Her name is Utoku Masami.>>

<<Of course. >> He reached the bottom of the stairs. <<Do you mind if I call you later?>>

<<Not at all.>>

When he finished the dinner that had been prepared for him he returned to his room. His father had gotten another phone call during dinner, causing him to leave immediately afterwards. Back in his room, Seijuurou began searching for the mysterious Utoku Masami.

It wasn't easy, but he was able to get what he wanted.

“This is Shigyou Kuniko.”

“It’s Akashi. The woman you’re looking for has relocated to Tokorozawa, here in Japan. Her family name is registered as Moritomo. They own a small dango shop and she is serving as a delivery girl along with her younger sister, Nozomi.”

“Thank you for your aid.”

“It’s my pleasure. In return, please give me some advice.” Seijuurou proceeded to explain the conversation he had overheard and his own speculation on the matter. “What do you think?”

“It’s a high possibility… No, with all the information you've given me these past days I can say the conclusion you've come to is probably the correct one. What is your next course of action? The most obvious one would be to directly confront your father.”

“I agree.”

And he did. But before he did that, he had something to confirm.

The trip to the hospital was a short one, and thanks to his earlier research, locating Furihata’s older brother’s room was an easy feat.

He was turning into the corridor when he heard Furihata’s voice fill the hallway.

“I’ll be right back with the snacks Nii-chan,” Furihata said as he exited his brother’s room, closing the door behind him. It only took a few steps forward for him to notice Seijuurou headed toward him, and the redhead was dismayed to find the cheer drain out of the other’s face. “Wh-what are you doing here?” Furihata asked, trying to keep his voice from shaking.

“I heard that your brother got into an accident,” Seijuurou replied. “I came to give my sympathies.” He came closer, hoping to close the distance between them, but quickly stopped when he saw Furihata take a step backwards at the same time.

“Y-you don’t even know my brother. So stay away from him.” Furihata clenched his hands into fists while narrowing his eyes at the redhead, straightening up his stance at the same instant.

Seijuurou had to wonder at the sudden determination that overtook Furihata. But he would not be swayed from his goal. “I have something I want to ask you, Furihata-san. Can we talk?”

Furihata shook his head stubbornly. “We already talked. I don’t want to hear what you have to say.”

“It’s just one thing, Kouki.” He observed as surprise overtook the brunet’s face at the usage of his first name. Seijuurou used the opportunity to find out what he really wanted to know.

“Are you being threatened by my father?”

Brown eyes met his red ones with panic before realizing their mistake.

Ah.

So it was true.

Seijuurou turned on his heel then, his expression hardening. He knew what he had to do next.

"W-Wait!" Seijuurou turned in surprise when he felt Furihata's hand catch hold of his own. "W-What do you plan on d-doing?" He could clearly feel the light tremors coming from the hand that held his own, and Seijuurou's features softened for the other.

Gently, he placed his hand atop of the brunet's. "What I should have done a long time ago," he told Furihata quietly, and leaned toward the other. Briefly, he pressed his lips against the brunet’s forehead in a light kiss before parting just as suddenly, sparing but a few words for Furihata’s ears, leaving the brunet stock-still in the middle of the hallway.

"Wait for me, Kouki."

The solitary knock on the door to his father’s study was the only warning given before he entered the room, not bothering to wait for a signal of permission.

Masaomi glared at his unexpected visitor, the look sustaining when he saw just who had entered his study so rudely. “Seijuurou, I expected better of you. What is it that you want?”

“Only one thing Father,” Seijuurou responded coolly. “Stay away from Furihata Kouki.”

Masaomi would have dropped the papers he held. But such a thing would give away his surprise and he had too much control to show even that.

“I take it that your memories have returned.”

“Yes, and I don’t appreciate the fact that you kept such knowledge from me.”

“I only did what was in your best interests.” Masaomi leaned back in his chair. “If you agree to no longer keep in contact with that boy then I will have no further reason to keep an eye on him.”

“Not negotiable.” Seijuurou firmly replied. “And your actions never had my interest in mind – it was only for the sake of our family’s reputation.”

“If you understand that much then why are you attempting to defy me? You have a duty as my only son to carry on the family business as well as our prestige. You know this.”

“I do know this. But I also know that I cannot keep living a life under your shadow, dictated by your desire to control me without regard to my own feelings.” Seijuurou’s expression hardened with his strengthening resolve. “I have a right to my own life and I won’t be restricted by your whims any longer.”

“Unacceptable. You’re still a child. What would you know of the real world? You’re not ready for it.”

“On the contrary, I am more mature than the rest of my peers. This should hardly be a surprise to you – after all, you were the one who raised me in such a way. To always excel, to go above and beyond the people around me – it is only in this way that I will do the Akashi name proud.” He stared his father dead in the eye. “I may not be as experienced as you are, but I am more than competent. My experiences are not less meaningful than your own.”

Masaomi heard the words his son was speaking, but it was not something he would so easily accept.

“Nevertheless, you are my son and I will not have you disrespecting me in this way, nor will I allow you to destroy what I have worked so hard to achieve. As the heir of the family, it is imperative you remain impeccable in the public’s eye. All that I have worked for and all that I have trained you to be will become meaningless if you insist on turning against the norms of our society. I won’t allow you to ruin this family.”

“Family?” Seijuurou began to laugh, hollowly. Bitterly. “This family of yours is nothing but a farce. You care about nothing but the Akashi reputation and the power that comes with that standing. The two of us are only family members on a surface level, nothing more, nothing less.”

Masaomi’s face darkened with rage. “How dare you,” he hissed, glaring at his son. “How dare you speak to me in such a way? If you have any respect for me at all, you will apologize right now.”

“No.” Seijuurou matched his father’s gaze. “I am done listening to you and following your orders. This is my life, not yours. If you still consider me to be your son, then respect my wishes. Stop interfering with my life.”

Masaomi was boiling with rage, but Seijuurou’s next words froze him in place.

It was spoken quietly, with a mix of bitterness and a hint of underlying sadness. “If you ever cared for Mother at all, you will re-evaluate what it means to be a family.”

Without waiting for a further response, Seijuurou left the room, and the wooden door closed shut behind him, enhancing the moment of finality.

Masaomi didn't move for a long moment.

“Akashi-bocchan, may I come in?”

“Yes, of course,” Seijuurou replied upon recognizing the familiar voice.

The elderly woman entered the room, closing the door gently behind her. “What do you plan to do now?” She had overheard his conversation with his father, but Seijuurou didn’t mind it one bit. If there was one person he trusted in the manor, it would be Saotome Sachiko. After all, she was more a family member to him than his real family.

“I don’t know,” he said simply. “As you've heard, Father and I are not on the best of terms right now. Staying at one of our other residences would be the best course of action.”

“And what of Furihata-kun? Don’t you plan to return to him?”

Seijuurou shook his head. “I can’t, not until I can be sure that Father won’t harass him anymore. I don’t know how long it will take, but I’ll do everything I can in the meantime.” He turned to her. “Would you like to come with me? I know Father’s presence has always been stifling for you.”

She shook her head. “Thank you, but for now I think it would be best for me to remain here.”

He nodded in understanding. “As you wish. Goodbye for now, Sao-san.”

Leaving to live in one of the other family residences did not hinder his life in the slightest. On the contrary, it went on normally as ever.

“Utoku Masami? It’s nice to meet you formally,” Seijuurou said, politely shaking her hand.

“Akashi Seijuurou right? Thank you for helping me reunite with Kuniko.”

“It was no trouble at all.” He turned to Shigyou who was seated beside her lover. “How well did your mother take it?”

“As well as your father,” she responded. “But it’s okay. She’ll get over it soon. If there’s one thing she loves more than power, it would be the reputation of our family name. We seem to have that in common, don’t we?” Her tone held only a hint of bitterness. “If anything, I just hope she’ll accept me for who I am one day.”

Seijuurou understood the feeling. How could he not?

Shigyou stood up. “Good luck, Akashi-san.”

Utoku did as well. “I hope you will be able to reunite with your lover,” she sincerely told him.

Seijuurou mirrored their movements. “Thank you both. I wish you luck in your future endeavors.”

He was still angry at his son, but he could not stop himself from remembering the entirety of their conversation either. It was during these times that he found thoughts of his late wife surfacing in his mind. It had been a very long time since he had thought of her.

Several months after her death, actually.

His son was sixteen now.

Had it really been so long?

Nothing had happened to his family after his brother’s stay at the hospital. Kouki was relieved, but he couldn't help staying anxious. Just because something hadn't yet happened didn't mean it wouldn't.

He hadn't received any threatening phone calls, which he supposed he only had Akashi to thank.

Except that Akashi hadn't contacted him since that day either.

Kouki couldn't help but be worried.

But he trusted in Akashi, so he would wait, no matter how long it took for the other to contact him.

“How long do you think he plans to stay away?” Masaomi asked as Saotome poured him his cup of afternoon tea.

“As long as it takes, I suppose,” she responded with a gentle hum. “How long do you plan to stay frustrated at him?” It was a bold move on her part, but ever since the father-son confrontation, Masaomi’s temperament had softened, and his troubled expression often betrayed his thoughts after long periods of silence. Work was going slow at the moment, so there was nothing to distract him from the issue that stood at the forefront of his mind.

“I just don’t understand why he’s so defiant. And telling me to re-evaluate what it means to be a family—where did that even come from?”

When she did not respond to his comment, he frowned. “Say whatever it is you want to say, Saotome-san, and be honest with me. We've known each other long enough.”

“In all honesty, I have more than just a few words to say to you, Akashi-san. And since you’re so kindly giving me the opportunity, I think I will speak my mind.”

She looked at him directly in the eye. “Tell me, Akashi-san. What do you know of your son?”

“What do you mean?”

“Exactly that. What can you tell me about your son?”

Masaomi wasn't sure what point she was driving at but decided to humor her anyway. “He’s on the basketball team. He likes shogi. He’s president of the student council. He’s a model student at his school, nothing less than perfection, nothing less than what I've raised him to be.”

“What else?”

“Nothing significant.”

“And therein lays your problem. To be frank, Akashi-san, you know nothing about your son, because you have never seen him as your son. All that you have listed are facts that any stranger can easily find out. But as a parent, you should know more than that. You should know his likes and dislikes, how his day went, and who his friends are. You should be there for every important occasion of his life. But you’re not there. Akashi-san, I can count on my fingers just how many times you've had a casual conversation with your son or put aside work to spend time with him. And yet you still wonder why he asked you to re-evaluate what it means to be a family.”

Masaomi was speechless. But Sachiko wasn't finished speaking.

“That child has been controlled by you his entire life. Never once has he complained against the strict regime you have placed on him since he was young, only doing his best to make you proud. But you have never rewarded him for his efforts. Growing up, did you really think that he would not be impacted in any way? You notice nothing, of course. If I hadn't told you about his split personality disorder, I daresay you would still be in the dark about the matter.” She looked at him sternly. “Would that not be reason enough to be defiant towards you, Akashi-san?”

“Surely you exaggerate.”

“I disagree. The young master would not have needed to create a second personality to handle his stress had he not been so pressured by the unrealistic expectations you had placed upon him.”

“What does that have to do with the boy he’s seeing?” Masaomi knows the point Saotome is trying to get to, but he still insisted on being stubborn.

“I do not know how the young master met Furihata-kun, but I’m glad he did. Do you know why, Akashi-san? Because when he is with that boy, your son feels loved. He feels happy. While I have practically raised that child, I am not the parent he seeks affection from. You are. But you have never given it to him, so he has long given up on expecting anything from you. In light of this, is it still so surprising that he would defy you for the sake of his lover?” Sachiko’s brow was raised, just daring him to defy her words.

“That’s enough.” Masaomi’s voice was flat. “You've spoken your mind as permitted, but I would ask you now to curb your tongue. This household of mine will be dictated as I see fit,” he paused slightly. “...but given your long-standing position with our family, I will give your words some consideration. Leave me."

Sachiko bowed her head.

“If I may say just one last thing, Akashi-san.”

Masaomi wasn’t pleased by the request, but granted her his permission anyway.

“I have raised that boy in memory of my lady Shiori. I hope for you have enough heart to remember the wishes of your late wife enough to give your son the life she would have wanted him to have.”

With that last statement, she excused herself from the room, leaving him to his thoughts.

Seijuurou passed the days immersed in his studies. Despite the argument with his father, his life had not drastically changed. He stayed impeccable in his roles of being student body president and captain of the basketball club. And still, he continued to rank as number one throughout the entire school.

His friends had sensed the changed that had occurred in him, but Seijuurou didn't feel the need to share his troubles. There wasn't much they could do about a private conflict, but he did appreciate their unique ways in trying to support him.

Over the months, the memories created by his brother had slowly returned to him, until he remembered everything. And feeling the love and freedom his other self had experienced... Seijuurou at times felt himself on the verge of tears, overwhelmed by what he had... and what he had lost.

At times, Seijuurou was tempted to contact Furihata.

But he didn't, because he was still waiting for his father’s response. He didn’t want to give Furihata false hope, nor did he want any part of their future to be interrupted by loose ends.

Furihata deserved better than that.

“Young master, you have a phone call.” The maid hovered by the doorway, hesitant to interrupt the redhead’s studies, but still ready to approach at the first word, knowing that he would want to take this particular call.

“It’s your father.”

“Father.” Seijuurou politely addresses upon entering his father’s study. Masaomi is sitting behind his big mahogany desk as usual, big piles of papers stacked to the side. But where there was usually some type of workload in front of his father, Seijuurou saw none.

“Seijuurou.” Masaomi’s tone matches his son, and remains imposing behind his desk. “I have considered your outburst for a rather long time, and I realize now that the methods I imposed on you could be considered extreme. In that regard, I apologize. Sometimes I forget you are still just a child.” He chose his next words carefully. “Are you truly committed to that boy, Seijuurou?”

“I am serious Father. And I intend to continue our relationship with or without your approval, although I would appreciate having it.” Seijuurou never once took his eyes away from his father.

Masaomi knew it had been futile to ask. His son was just as stubborn as his late wife, especially when they found something they were extremely passionate about. “While I am not pleased to hear your decision...” Masaomi closed his eyes for a second.

“I will allow it.”

Seijuurou’s eyes widened by a fraction more than he had been trained to do. Of all the possible outcomes he had envisioned, not once had he truly considered the possibility that his father would actually concede to his wish.

“I give you my word that I will no longer meddle in your affair with the Furihata boy, nor will I threaten him any longer.”

“T-Thank you, Father.” Seijuurou was humbled by the degree of understanding his father was displaying.

“There is just one more thing, Seijuurou.” Masaomi paused, trying to find the words to phrase his request. “I would... like to repair our relationship, if you would be willing. I realize that you may have been... correct in saying that we are not much of a family. I would like to amend that.”

If asked, Seijuurou would be unable to describe exactly the waves of emotion coursing over him. Knowing his father wanted to change their current relationship was overwhelming. Hearing his father speak those words aloud was inconceivable.

“...There is nothing I would like better.”

Kouki had just finished making himself an omelette rice when the doorbell rang. He frowned as he set the plate down on the dining table. Had his parents forgotten something? They had only left the house half an hour ago for their friend’s birthday party. It was way too soon for them to be returning. A second, more impatient ring interrupted his musings and he quickly threw his apron onto a chair. “Coming, coming!” he shouted, making his way to the front.

Kouki swung the door open. “Yes, what is i-” His words died in his throat when he saw who was waiting outside his door. “Sei?” he couldn’t help whisper incredulously. Was he dreaming? What was Akashi even doing here?

Those red orbs looked into his brown ones deeply, keeping Kouki mesmerized.

“It’s over,” Seijuurou said quietly, meaningfully.

“Wh-What do you mean by that?” Kouki asked, baffled.

“It’s over.” Seijuurou repeated again. “I’ve taken care of it.”

A sense of relief washed over Kouki as he finally understood what Akashi was implying. “Thank goodness,” he mumbled, his legs giving out under him as understanding dawned. “Thank goodness.” His relief released the hurt he had been holding, overflowing in tears. “I’m so sorry,” he cried, crumbling into a ball on his doorstep. “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry Sei.”

Slowly Seijuurou crouched down , gathering Furihata into his arms,.“I’m sorry too,” he whispered, clutching the brunet tighter. Something inside him had been released the moment Furihata had broken down, and Seijuurou found the emotion express itself through water droplets trickling down his cheeks. “Kouki,” Seijuurou said, not bothering to hide the tremble in his voice. “Will you give us a chance again? Will you let me love you?”

Kouki felt the droplets on his skin, and being so close to the redhead’s heart, heard the tremor in Akashi’s voice. His heart had nearly stopped when he heard his name drop from those familiar lips, but it picked up again, a fast, fluttery beat. Kouki nodded in answer to Akashi’s question. “Yes,” he murmured, leaning his forehead against the other’s chest, then shifted so his lips were directly over Akashi’s heart. “Yes.”

Seijuurou felt his heart stutter and then pulsate even faster again upon hearing Furihata’s answer and the warmth of those lips against the thin fabric of his shirt. Seijuurou cupped Furihata’s face and tugged him upwards so they faced each other. Teary brown orbs met watery red ones, and they stared at each other deeply, feeling the swell of emotion within their bodies rise and rise, before meeting and melting into a loving kiss.

After a little while, the two pulled away each other and composed themselves, both slightly embarrassed by their open display of emotions right outside of Furihata’s home. “Come in,” Kouki said, pulling Akashi into his home. “Let me make you some omelette rice.”

Seijuurou couldn’t help the smile that came over his face. “Nothing would make me happier.”

END

#akafuri #akashi seijuurou #furihata kouki #bosamiwa #secrettemplars #fuwacchi #kuroko no basuke #cdrfics

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