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Furihata Kōki was never anyone really special. He was average- average height, average coloring, average intelligence with average abilities. He wasn’t anyone inspiring or incredibly determined. He wasn’t unwaveringly brave or particularly adventurous. But he got by alright. As his coach liked to say- ‘Coward’ is just another word for ‘Careful’ and he liked to think that there was rarely a situation where being careful was a bad thing. He was leaving practice (AKA literal Hell on Earth - if he hadn’t promised himself he would be a starter this year he would probably have passed out long before he finished Riko’s drills) when his phone rang.
“Moshi moshi?” he answered cheerily.
“Kōki-chan!” his mother’s cheery voice greeted him through the speaker. “I’m running late tonight- can you stop by the store and grab dinner? I’ll text you the list. I’m picking up the twins on my way home so if you can get the rice started and I’ll finish the rest when we come home that would be fantastic!”
As usual, his mother sounded flustered and rushed. Kōki smiled affectionately and waited for her to finish before responding. “Yeah, Kaa-chan, no problem! I’m just leaving the school now so I can get the groceries and be home with plenty of time to get dinner started.”
“Thank you, Kōki-chan! I don’t know what I would do without such a responsible son at home! When your sister left for college I thought… well, in any case, I’m glad you’ve become so responsible. I love you, Kōki-chan~!”
“Love you, too, Kaa-chan, see you soon!”
“See you soon, baby!”
Furihata ended the call, still smiling. He looked around the clubroom to make sure he hadn’t forgotten anything before heaving his gym bag over his shoulder and walking out. On the way he passed Kuroko and Kagami, heading out to Kagami’s as usual.
“Bye, guys! Have a good rest of your day!” he waved cheerily. Kuroko raised a hand in return and Kagami smiled and nodded back. Furihata smiled as he practically skipped out of the school grounds, heading for the bus stop. Because he lived in Tokyo, he had a bit of a long commute compared to the other guys on the team. But he didn’t mind- he loved Serin. And he loved his team.
As he boarded the bus, he recalled why he joined the team in the first place and silently shook his head at his naivety.
-_-_-_-0o0o0o0o0-_-_-_-
“Furihata-kun~!” a voice called from down the pavement. Furihata turned to see Yui-chan, the girl he had a crush on for over a year, running towards him with a smile, her hand in the air to get his attention. Yue had blonde hair and blue eyes, she was a halfer- half Japanese, half Swedish. She was also incredibly attractive and very well- ahem- endowed.
He had confessed his feelings to her at the end of summer break, but she had rejected him. “I’ll go out with you when you prove that you can be the best at something,” she had told him.
“Yue-chan?” he asked, bewildered. She caught up to him and beamed up at him- he wasn’t tall, only 170 cm (~5’6”), but she was even shorter- about 160 cm(~5’1”). She was petite all around, her tiny dancer’s build making her a popular target of love confessions from many boys in Middle School and now in High School. “Did you need something?”
“Furihata-kun, I saw your game! It was on the TV- you made it to the National level and won the Winter Cup!”
“Ah- I suppose I did,” Furihata scratched the back of his neck and blushed. “But I didn’t really do a whole lot.”
“But don’t you see? We can go out now!”
“Ah- wh-what?” he stuttered, mind drawing a blank.
“You became the best, Furihata-kun! The best in Japan at basketball!” she reminded him. “So I will accept your affections now.”
Something about the way she said that rubbed Kōki the wrong way. He looked down at her and blinked. He… didn’t feel all that attracted to her, actually. She seemed… undesirable now. He realised that he had been blinded by her facade of pleasantries and good looks and had somehow been so infatuated that he missed her obvious personality flaws. She may be the most popular girl in their year but… Kōki no longer wanted her.
“Ah, ano… I’m so sorry, Yue-chan, but I have to decline.”
She blinked. “What?”
“I uh…” Furihata took a small step away from her, noticing how close she’d gotten. “I just don’t feel that way about you anymore, Mizushima-san.”
“You… are rejecting… ME?!”
-_-_-_-0o0o0o0o0-_-_-_-
Wincing at the memory, Furihata breathed a sigh of relief. At least that was one bullet he’d dodged. She’d gone completely ballistic after that. He’d ended up with a ringing ear from her screaming and a aching cheek from her slap but he was better off. He really should thank her for motivating him to join basketball in the first place. Now that Kiyoshi was out for the season, there was an opening on the starting lineup. Furihata knew that they would probably give it to Mitobe-senpai, and he was okay with that. Mitobe deserved it. But that didn’t mean Furihata couldn’t try his very best to get there.
It wasn’t just Mitobe he had to contend with, however. A new round of freshmen were joining this week, the practice game was scheduled the day before the All-School Assembly where the accepted members would no doubt be forced to give rooftop reasons and promises of confession if they lost. But these new members were bound to be good- after all, Serin had won the Winter Cup, they were seen as the best High-School team in the entire country now. Aida-senpai had focused all her efforts on recruiting new members from various middle schools, including at least two players from Teiko. Because of this, Furihata had taken it on himself to contact Kagami and Kuroko, and the three of them met up at the court in the park by Kagami’s flat like clockwork anytime they didn’t have a scheduled team practice. Kagami had been teaching shooting and dribbling, Kuroko had been teaching some more basic passing, and they’d both been giving him advice on how to work under pressure and not back down. They couldn’t exactly break one of his action figures as motivation every time he missed a shot, so they had to come up with other ways to keep him going. It was gradual, but both Kagami and Kuroko seemed confident in his improvement.
They weren’t the only ones Furihata played with in his free time. Often times Kagami’s brother, Himuro-san from Yosen, and his overly large purple shadow, Murasakibara-san, showed up to play easy streetball games. Furihata was getting fairly decent at blocking and even jumping for rebounds. He was no Kiyoshi, but he was getting there. Once or twice Aomine-san had showed his face, always challenging Kagami to lighting-fast one-on-one matches that Furihata could only watch with wide eyes. But sometimes Aomine would stick around after he mopped the court with Kagami and gave sarcastic comments about Furihata’s shooting that were often times halfway helpful in a strange way.
It was strange, but Furihata thought of them all as his friends. He and Aomine even texted each other sometimes, discussing the latest NBA matches or the offers Aomine kept turning down to join the Under 18 Japan National Team. Kuroko also texted him often, mostly discussing practices or sometimes new video games they’d both played. Kagami only ever texted him to let him know about meeting up or to make sure he was eating okay. Kagami was strangely motherly when he wanted to be, always concerned about his teammates eating habits, making sure they were getting well-rounded meals in at least twice a day. One time, Murasakibara (who had apparently gotten his number from Kuroko) even texted him, asking him if he had enough money for a vending machine because he’d spent all his monthly allowance on snacks already. He’d immediately gotten a follow-up text from Himuro telling him not to respond to Murasakibara because the giant had already taken 2000 yen from him and spent it. Furihata had just laughed and texted back that he was broke anyways.
The ding for the last stop rang and jostled Kōki from his thoughts. He exited with the remaining passengers and began to walk down the sidewalk towards the store. They were on the outskirts of Tokyo, about one kilometer from his house. The grocery store was on the way, only a couple blocks away from the store. It was a good cool-down exercise, he had found. Particularly after Coach Riko’s rather grueling practices and drills.
He went to the store and got the food necessary for that night's dinner before heading back out with a cheery wave to the shop owner, ready to head home for the weekend.
He made his walk in relative silence, the hustle and bustle of other pedestrians and shoppers around him. So out of it was he, that he nearly didn’t hear the commotion.
“Hey, look at the chibi-chan!”
“Look at his fancy school uniform! I’ll bet he has a lot of pocket change on him!”
“I strongly suggest you step away.”
Wait.
Furihata knew that voice. That was-
“Who does this guy think he is? There are five of us, chibi-chan, and only one of you.”
“I am Akashi Seijuurou,” Akashi-san replied. Unconsciously, Furihata’s feet drew him closer to the conflict. It was going down in an alleyway between a fish market and the shoe repair shop he sometimes frequented for his basketball shoes. Once the gang came in sight, he balked. Akashi was facing down five very large young men, each at least 190 cm. Akashi, being only about 3-5 cm taller than himself, looked even smaller than usual. But somehow he made up for that with presence. His aura oozed boredom and casual confidence, and suddenly Furihata knew that Akashi would win this fight, impossible odds or not.
“Oooh, I’m sooo scared!” another one of the thug crowed sarcastically. Akashi deliberately looked up and met the taller boy’s eyes with his own dichromatic irises. The boy visibly shuddered but swallowed and held his ground.
“Stupid,” Furihata breathed from behind the dumpster he was peeking around, shaking his head.
“I will be going now,” Akashi stated flatly, moving to walk past them.
“Hey!” one of them grabbed the strap of Akashi-san’s shoulder bag. Before anyone could react, Akashi had grabbed the boy’s wrist and applied pressure so that he released his grip. Then he twisted his own wrist until the boy’s popped ominously. The boy screamed in pain.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Akashi warned, his voice so cold that Furihata got shivers.
“G-get him!” the other four recovered themselves and converged on Akashi.
Furihata watched in horrified fascination as Akashi dispatched them all. They got a few hits in here and there but most were dodged by Akashi's usual grace as they were knocked out by his absolute fists. Soon, the Rakuzan basketball captain was standing above five unconscious bodies, breathing slightly heavily.
It was then that Furihata noticed that he was bleeding. Caution suddenly leaving him, he set down his bags of groceries and walked quickly around the dumpster. Akashi visibly tensed at his approach, looking up from his crouched position to meet his gaze.
“Akashi-san! You’re injured!” he cried out, only focused on the injured boy in front of him and nothing else.
“Who… who are you?” Akashi spit out warily. His eyes were both crimson again.
“Ah,” Kōki sweatdropped. “You don’t remember me?”
Akashi squinted at him harder, looking him up and down and noticing the Serin sports jacket and pants. “Wait…” he paused to spit a mouthful of blood. “Number 12, Seirin High. You were put against me in the Winter Cup,” Akashi recalled.
“Yes, I’m Furihata Kōki. But that’s not important! We need to call you an ambulance or something!”
“I’m not injured.”
“That’s a lie,” Furihata’s bluntness caused Akashi to look up, started, and meet his gaze. Furihata stared back, unwavering. “Your lip is split and your temple is bruised. I also saw a couple punches land on your torso. You need ice and bandages. And your knuckles!” Kōki clicked his tongue in a motherly fashion. “Come with me, my house is just around the corner. I’ll patch you up and send you on your way, it won’t take long.” He grabbed Akashi’s wrist and dragged the still stunned captain behind him, scooping up his bags of groceries on the way.
----------------------
Akashi Seijuurou was not having a good day. Ever since the Winter Cup, his days had been a bit easier. He wasn’t himself- or rather, he was more himself than ever before. He still valued winning, but he recalled the pain he felt when his team had lost the Winter Cup to Seirin. He no longer only thought of winning, he also thought about what it meant to be the loser. After all, if he always won, that meant someone else always lost. Maybe not the same person every time, but someone. Thanks to Kuroko, the two people living in his body now worked together, instead of suppressing on another. It did not make him weak. If anything, he was stronger than ever before. But he was not immune to bad days.
It was only when he boarded the train to Tokyo when his day began to go sour. He was stuck in the most crowded car, his leg muscles aching from the practice he had just finished and the walk to the station. Pushing himself to jump so high was never easy on his body, but it was necessary. He wouldn’t lose the Winter Cup this time, he was certain. His team made little complaint to the increased training doctrine, but he could tell they were wearing out. He made a mental note to change their routine to stamina exercises instead of hard and fast drills.
Now, in the crowded car, there wasn’t even enough room to sit down and rest his sore muscles. On top of that, a small child was making a fuss nearby, the mother trying desperately to quiet it but to no avail. Closing his eyes, he tried to tune it out as best he could.
“Hey,” a voice called. Akashi ignored it, keeping his eyes closed. “Hey, shrimp!” a finger poked him in the shoulder. His eyes flashed open, meeting the gaze of an irate business man. “Could you move? You’re blocking the door,” he growled rudely.
Akashi’s eyes flashed with fury that he barely contained- a crowded car was not ideal for starting a fist fight. He looked around him pointedly, every side of his body was pressed against someone else and he had nowhere to go.
“I said move, shrimp!” the man’s face was turning puce.
“I have nowhere to go,” Akashi pointed out to the dimwitted man.
“That’s not my problem! This is my stop coming up and I need to get to the door!”
“That is not my problem,” Akashi mimicked the man, irritation spiking.
“Just duck under their legs, shrimp!” the man ordered, shouting now. The passengers around Akashi shifted uncomfortably but were unable to move away from the confrontation.
“Call me shrimp… one… more… time…” Akashi felt his left eye burn and knew it was turning gold. The man saw this and gulped but couldn’t move away.
“I s-said- move…. Shrimp.”
Rolling his eyes at the stupidity, Akashi managed to reach up in the cramped space and touch the man’s shoulder. His eyes rolled back into his head and he collapsed on the two men behind him, Akashi’s grip on his pressure point releasing now that the man was unconscious.
“Hey!”
“Whoa!” the other passengers protested. A woman near Akashi whimpered in fear and tried to shuffle away. The intercom dinged to announce their arrival at the station. It was a little farther away from Akashi’s intended destination but he would rather walk than stay in the train. With uncanny precision tuned from dodging defenders, he weaved through the sardine can called a train and slipped out the doors onto the platform.
Shaking off the confrontation, Akashi sighed and set off, ignoring the pain in his overworked legs. He needed to make it to the shoemaker’s shop to pick up his custom order- new basketball shoes to replace the ones he’d had for too long already- the tread was wearing flat and he was losing traction on the court.
He walked along the side of the road, ignoring the shopkeepers and kiyosk people who tried to stop him and sell him something. He just wanted this to be over with so he could return home and call his personal masseuse to treat his muscles. It was then that the ringing of a bell caught his attention.
A man on a bike was coming down towards him, clearly careening out of control. Reflexes as sharp as ever, Akashi leapt out of the way and dodged the oncoming accident. However, when he landed, the muscles on his legs protested and gave out. He hit the pavement hard, his knee cracking against the concrete. Concealing a wince, he immediately knew that it was badly bruised, if not fractured. Heaving a sigh, he hefted himself to his feet, ignoring the concerned questions from the other pedestrians who had seen the whole ordeal.
Walking was even more painful now, but he refused to let it hinder him. The shoemaker’s shop was at the end of the block and he walked the rest of the way in silence. After greeting the shopkeeper and accepting his order, he put the shoes in his shoulder bag and took his old pair and threw them in the trash before moving on. Wanting to avoid the foot-traffic, he decided to cut into the nearest alleyway.
This turned out to be a mistake. A small crowd of young men, perhaps aged 20-25, stood behind a dumpster, clearly doing something illegal.
“Hey, look at the chibi-chan!”
“Look at his fancy school uniform! I’ll bet he has a lot of pocket change on him!”
“I strongly suggest you step away.” Akashi was getting very tired of being called short.
“Who does this guy think he is? There are five of us, chibi-chan, and only one of you.”
“I am Akashi Seijuurou,” Akashi replied, rolling his eyes. These imbeciles picked a really bad day to pick a fight. Akashi was already assessing them, noting their weaknesses. There were many. This would be easy.
“Oooh, I’m sooo scared!” one of the thugs crowed.
“I’ll be going now,” Akashi moved as if to go by them, putting himself in the perfect position for the fight.
“Hey!” as planned, one of the thugs reached out and grabbed him to stop his advance. He grabbed the boy’s wrist and turned the attack around, dislocating the joint with ease.
A few movements later, he was standing above his would-be attackers. He had overestimated his abilities with injured legs- they had landed more punches than he had originally anticipated. He ached in multiple places and his breathing was elevated from the exertion.
“Akashi-san! You’re injured!” a voice startled him into looking up from his crouched position. A boy with an achingly familiar face was rounding the dumpster, dropping grocery bags in the process.
“Who… who are you?” Akashi asked, instinctively keeping his defensive stance as the male approached. He didn’t look intimidating, but Akashi knew he was injured and wouldn’t be able to fight if this newcomer tried to attack. But this boy knew his name… Had he overheard it before?
“Ah,” the boy laughed nervously. “You don’t remember me?”
Akashi looked him up and down, scouring his memory. He noticed the Serin sportswear and thought back to the Winter Cup. “Wait…” he paused as a metallic fluid flooded his mouth from his split lip and he spit it out before answering. “Number 12, Seirin High. You were put against me in the Winter Cup,” he finished, standing a little straighter.
“Yes, I’m Furihata Kōki. But that’s not important!” the boy looked at him with a look Akashi had never seen directed at himself. The boy looked… concerned. “We need to call you an ambulance or something!” the boy- Furihata- exclaimed, reaching out as if to touch Akashi.
“I’m not injured.” Akashi knew it was a lie but he didn’t want this boy’s pity. Besides, the boy wouldn’t dare call him out-
“That’s a lie,” Furihata actually dared defy him? Who was this man? Unwittingly, the response caused Akashi to meet the boy’s eyes. The gaze was firm, almost like a parent’s. Akashi note that Furihata’s irises were not dull brown, as he had thought previously, but an almost golden hazel with filaments of green and darker brown weaved through like an earthy tapestry. They were eyes that Akashi could get used to meeting.
Furihata stared back, unwavering. “Your lip is split and your temple is bruised. I also saw a couple punches land on your torso.” How long had Furihata been watching him? “You need ice and bandages. And your knuckles!” Kōki clicked his tongue in a condescending fashion but strangely Akashi wasn’t irritated by it. “Come with me, my house is just around the corner. I’ll patch you up and send you on your way, it won’t take long.”
The sudden invitation- no, command caught Akashi so off-guard that he didn’t even protest as Furihata grabbed his wrist and dragged him along, pausing to pick up his previously abandoned bags before continuing along the street. Akashi winced at the slightly too-fast pace that he wa being dragged along at. He briefly considered putting an end to this, but he was curious about this male. He didn’t seem to be afraid of Akashi. However, Akashi knew from what he remembered about the boy in the Winter Cup that he was so terrified of Akashi he could barely move. That had been only a couple weeks ago- what had changed?
True to the boy’s word, they soon arrived at an apartment building not too far from the shoemaker’s shop. The building was older, not as tall as some of the ones closer to downtown Tokyo, but up-kept fairly well- no obvious disrepair beyond the weathering of the outside and a few creaky stairs. The Furihata residence was on the third floor, and Akashi’s calves ached as he ascended the stairs. This time, Furihata noticed his wince.
“Are you alright? Did they hurt you that badly?!” the other boy asked, hands fluttering worryingly around him.
“Tch,” Akashi scoffed. “As if they could. I am simply sore from today’s basketball practice. I… may have overworked my legs a little.” Why was he admitting this weakness?! Something about the concern in Furihata’s golden-hazel eyes...
“Ah, well then, you’ll be happy to know I am a licensed Sports Masseur! Kaa-chan is an Orthopedic Surgeon and she insisted that I take classes once I started sports. I can help you with that after we bandage you up.”
Humming contentedly, Furihata fairly danced around the apartment, leaving Seijuurou’s immediate line of sight. He took the moment alone to inspect the apartment a little more. From what he could see, it was kept clean and tidy- just the way he liked things. There was nothing overly spectacular about it, which was almost surprising. On average, Orthopedic Surgeons made 51,410,400 yen a year- more than enough to afford a large 750,000 yen/month apartment in the heart of Tokyo with a terrace and full kitchen. And yet, the Furihata lived here, on the outskirts of the city in a small, modest flat with two bedrooms (from what he could see). It was endlessly fascinating. The humming grew louder, signalling the return of Furihata. He rounded the corner from the bathroom with a first aid kit, rubbing alcohol, a water bottle, an icepack, and a couple towels. He stopped humming, looking Akashi up and down as if wondering where to start. Finally, he heaved a sigh and set his materials on the floor in front of Akashi’s chair.
“Drink this,” he handed Akashi the water bottle. “All of it. But go slowly, you need to hydrate your muscles as much as possible.” he added sternly. Akashi opened the bottle and obediently drank a couple sips. Furihata grabbed his free hand, soaking a cotton ball in rubbing alcohol and swiping over his scraped knuckles. Akashi hissed in pain, immediately thereafter cursing himself internally for letting the noise escape.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he demanded, taking his frustration and pain out on the boy causing it. Instead of cowering, Furihata glared up at him defiantly.
“I have two younger brothers who get in fights all the time- you’re not getting any sympathy from me. If I leave these the way they are, they’ll get infected. So suck it up.”
Akashi was once again fascinated by this man before him, his previous anger dissipating. Never in his life had anyone dared speak to him like that. It was… refreshingly normal. He wasn’t being treated like the heir to a multibillion yen company, but instead like a disobedient teen who had gotten into a fistfight.
Furihata cleaned his knuckles and bandaged them with surprising ease. He then moved on to the bruises. The ones on his arms and face were treated with ointment which Furihata rubbed in with that same foreign gentleness. Biting his lip, Furihata looked up at Akashi determinedly.
“Now, take off your shirt. I saw at least one punch land on your torso and I want to make sure it’s just bruised and you didn’t fracture anything.”
Akashi thought about protesting, but ultimately decided it would be faster to just obey. Cool fingers probed over his ribs and sternum as Furihata worried his lip between his teeth, concentrating as he checked for fractures. It was… rather adorable.
He really needed to stop thinking such things. This boy was no different than the thousands of others Akashi saw in his lifetime.
Satisfied that there were no serious injuries, Furihata rubbed the same ointment into his chest and ribs. He reached a bruise on Akashi’s side and the redhead couldn’t contain his jerking motion.
“Are you alright? Did something hurt?” Furihata asked frantically. “Did I press too hard?” Akashi- much to his absolute horror- felt his face heat up.
“No,” he said firmly.
“Then what…?” Furihata furrowed his brow in confusion, his eyes flicking up to Akashi’ flushed face. “Akashi-san…” realization dawned. “Are you… ticklish?”
“No,” Akashi glared down with such ferocity that a normal person would have melted like an ice lolly on a summer day. But Furihata merely grinned indulgently back.
“Alright, whatever you say~!” he laughed a little and handed Akashi the tube of ointment. “Why don’t you finish applying the ointment to that bruise and I’ll get the soaking tub ready.”
Akashi accepted the tube haughtily, knowing his face was still flushed but pointedly ignoring it. He applied the ointment as directed, watching out of the corner of his eye as Furihata trotted to the kitchen area and pulled a foot tub out from a cabinet before directing the hose from the sink into it, changing the temperature of the water until he found it satisfactory. Once full, he dragged the heavy tub over to Akashi and pointed to a nearby chair.
“Sit,” he commanded. Akashi sat. Furihata pulled the tub even closer and picked up Akashi’s feet one t a time, placing them in the warm water. It felt wonderful. Akashi allowed his head and shoulders to relax a little, eyes fluttering closed. He kept track of Furihata’s position by listening to the humming. It was rather soothing. After a few minutes, Furihata drew closer, grabbing one of his legs at the calf above the waterline.
The hands, now covered in a lavender scented oil, began working the muscles of his calves with expert strokes. Akashi couldn’t hold back his moan. The hands and humming both paused for a fraction of a second before resuming, Furihata wisely deciding not to comment. Akashi was careful not to let another sound escape him, though. No matter how good it felt.
After he finished with his left calf and shin, Furihata moved to his right. He worked from the ankle up and back down. About the third time he came up, he paused, going silent. Akashi cracked an eye open to see what had caught his attention. Furihata was staring at his knee, which he now remembered cracking on the concrete earlier. It was developing a vivid purple bruise.
“This didn’t come from the fight,” Furihata stated. “Did you injure yourself at practice?”
“No,” Akashi sighed. “I was forced out of the way by an out of control cyclist. Unfortunately, in my effort to dodge I lost my balance and hit it on the pavement.”
“Ah,” Furihata nodded and picked up a towel to wipe the excess oil off his hands. Carefully, he prodded the bruise and the area around it. “Well, it’s not fractured, thank god. If it had been, you’d be benched for a month at least. As it is, I’m going to treat it as best I can and you can have your own doctor look at it, but I’d say at least a week of limited physical activity is required. I won’t tell you not to practice at all, because something tells me you won’t listen, but at least take it easy, okay? We’re only given the one body and we need to take care of it.”
Akashi peered down at him through half open eyes, assessing the sincerity on the other boy’s face. Finally, he nodded once and slid his eyes closed once more, head lolling back. It was a novel feeling, to be able to relax this much in the presence of anyone much less a near stranger.
The humming resumed as Furihata once again uncapped the ointment and rubbed it into his knee. He added some lavender oil for good measure and pulled out some gauze padding and gauze tape to wrap it up. He then pulled Akashi’s feet from the tub and toweled them dry, dragging the tub into the bathroom and upending it inside the bathtub. He returned with some simple cloth bandages and gently wrapped Akashi’s legs up.
“I would normally use compression socks, but I don’t think mine will fit you as well and I don’t want to take any chances. I have an ice pack for your lip- it’s swollen. And drink the rest of that water, okay? I have to start dinner- and I expect you to stay for that, too. We’re making high-protein foods and you’ll need it to help repair your muscles.”
Akashi nodded and took another drink from the water bottle before pressing the ice to his mouth. He watched as Furihata packed everything back up and washed his hands before unpacking the grocery bags and starting on dinner.
“Furihata…” he spoke, surprising himself with how soft his voice was. Furihata looked over his shoulder questioningly. “Thank you,” Akashi finished.
Furihata looked stunned for a second before a smile took over his features. He beamed at Akashi, his golden hazel eyes glittering with happiness. Akashi felt his breath catch in his throat. That smile changed Furihata from an average looking male to one of the most beautiful things Akashi had ever seen. It was ridiculous! How could one person affect him this much? “You’re welcome, Akashi-san,” Furihata responded, still smiling.
Akashi nodded once and forced himself to relax once more into the confortable living room chair, eyes falling closed. He would only rest for a minute…
‘ And by the end of the evening,’ he vowed to himself, ‘I will make this Furihata Kōki mine.’
-----------------------------
Kōki bustled around the kitchen, his mind still playing Akashi’s thanks on repeat. He got the feeling that not a lot of people had ever earned Akashi’s gratitude. He was proud of himself for not giving in to the fierce glares and menacing aura. Akashi needed help, Furihata gave it, whether he wanted it or not. It was an instinct he’d picked up from watching the twins so often after his sister moved out.
Kenji and Takumi were so alike and so very different from each other at the same time. They were identical twins, both having their mother’s golden brown hair and their father’s green eyes. At age 13, they got into more trouble than most other kids, but Kōki loved them anyways. Kenji was always the more responsible one, respectful of authority when need-be. But he also had a temper and tended to act out to gain attention. Takumi was very art-oriented. He loved to draw and paint. Like his elder twin, he had a temper, but he usually got into fights just to pull his brother out of trouble instead of starting them.
They were a handful, sure, but with the death of their father and subsequently the mor hours his mother put into work to support them, Kōki had ended up babysitting them so much he was beginning to feel like a substitute parent. Even if they didn’t always listen to him.
Humming to himself, he started the rice and decided to make his mum’s job a little easier by at least starting the rest of the meal as well. He put the fish in a pan to sear for the top of the spinach salad side dish and began the tofu and lentil soup for the main course. He wasn’t Kagami-caliber in the kitchen, but he got by. He needed to, his mum often worked odd hours as an Orthopedic Surgeon and couldn’t always get home to make proper meals for her children. Convenience store meals only got them so far.
Pausing once everything was cooking, he realized that Akashi had been suspiciously quiet. He wiped his hands on a nearby towel and turned to see what the red haired boy was doing. To his surprise, Akashi was sitting in the chair where he’d left him, head lolling slightly to the side and eyes closed. Drawing closer, Kōki heard something that gave him the shock of his life.
Small snores were escaping the slightly agape mouth of Rakuzan’s Basketball Captain. Face completely relaxed in sleep, Akashi looked… adorable .
Kōki slapped himself in the face, shaking his head to clear it.
He must be tired if he was thinking things like that. Sure, he was bisexual, but this was AKASHI, for kami-sama’s sake! He’d known about his sexuality since he was twelve. His mother, having studied abroad for so many years in America, had made sure to tell all her children the basics of love and sex with ALL genders. It had been embarrassing, sure, but Kōki was more informed than a lot of his peers on the subject. Traditional Japanese culture tended to shy away from those topics, especially when it came to anything other than herterosexuality. So when twelve year old Kōki had his first crush on another little boy, his mother explained homosexuality to him. When he later got a crush on a girl, his mother explained pansexuality and bisexuality. It was nice to know he wasn’t some sort of freak- it was perfectly normal to be attracted to two or more genders.
It wasn’t so normal to be attracted to a psychopath that tried to stab his teammate with pair of scissors.
‘But he’s not like that anymore,’ he argued with himself. ‘Even Kagami thinks so! And Kuroko mentioned therapy…’
Sighing, he decided that he should at least cover the sleeping boy with a blanket; the living room wasn’t too cold, but it wasn’t exactly warm, either. It was nearing the end of October and the building’s heat hadn’t been turned on yet. He decided they probably needed to drag the kotatsu out from the closet sometime within the week…
Looking around, he didn’t see a blanket suitable to cover the captain, so he went to his own room and grabbed one off his desk chair, shaking it out before folding it over his arm and walked back to the living room. Carefully, he draped it over Akashi’s sleeping form. Stepping back, he surveyed the other boy for a moment longer before returning to his cooking, humming a little quieter than before.
--------------------------------
Akashi woke slowly, the clatter of dishes being set out jostling him from his slumber. Yawning, he opened his eyes, momentarily disorientated as he looked around the unfamiliar room. His eyes focused on the back of a familiar form and he relaxed as he recalled what had happened.
Furihata Kōki. The baffling teenager who had taken him into his home and treated his wounds and sore muscles with a smile and almost no fear. It had been ages since anyone had looked at him with anything other than fear and respect, even longer since anyone had fawned over him in such a manner. In fact, the last person to do so was probably his mother when he had been sick as a child.
Akashi wanted to get mad at himself for falling asleep, for allowing this boy to see him at his weakest, but the warm blanket that covered him- which hadn’t been there when he fell asleep- stopped him like a wall. He gazed down at the thing- it wasn’t made of Egyptian cotton, like his sheets at the mansion, but it had to be the softest thing he had ever touched. It was worn and smelled like cedar and saffron and… home . A confusing feeling welled in his chest, spreading through his limbs and making him tingle with warmth.
Interesting.
He felt… happy.
The only times he ever felt happiness in the recent past was when he was with his team. Whether Teiko Middle School team or his current Rakuzan team, they were the only ones who made him feel welcomed like this, accepting him despite his flaws. Until now, that is. This very confusing boy- Furihata Kōki- had taken him in, took care of him, and tucked him in when he fell asleep.
Interesting. He now reaffirmed his earlier thoughts- he would make Kōki his. But how?
He considered many ways to approach the subject, from directly ordering the boy to be his (which he discarded because Kōki seemed to have no problems disobeying his orders) to casually mentioning it as he left for the night. In the end, he gathered his pride and sent an email to the only person he trusted to give him advice and not judge him.
To: Kuroko Tetsuya
Subj: I require advice
Kuroko, I find myself in the
unusual predicament of desiring
to ask someone to be mine. Any
advice as to how to go about
doing this is appreciated.
From: Kuroko Tetsuya
Subj: A Few Questions
Akashi-kun, before I give advice,
I need to know three things:
What is this person’s gender?
What is this person’s sexuality?
Why do you like this person?
If you answer these I will be able
to form a basis for a hypothesis for
the best way to approach this
person about your feelings.
To: Kuroko Tetsuya
Subj: A Few Answers
They are male, I do not know his
sexuality but he had no problems
letting his eyes wander over my
shirtless form so I can at least
assume he is attracted to me
physically.
As to your last question… I tell you
this in confidence, Kuroko. If I find
out anyone sees this text, I will not
be pleased. I suppose I like them
because they make me feel
comfortable. They cared for my
wounds and are insisting on feeding
me dinner. They did not obey my order
to leave me alone. They have cowered
before me on other occasions but it
seems when it comes to caring for me
they are able to overcome their fear.
I feel… happy when I look at them.
From: Kuroko Tetsuya
Subj: Akashi-kun is a Poet
It is my belief that if you just tell
Furihata-kun how you feel he will
respond positively. Ask him on a
date as a trial to see if he wants to
date you. And I do mean ask,
Akashi-kun. He is free to reject you,
forcing him will not get you anywhere.
Akashi scoffed to himself. Of course Tetsuya would know who he was talking about. Still, he was grateful for the insight. He flipped his phone closed decisively. Slowly, he sat up in his chair, peeling the blanket from his body and folding it neatly. He stretched, feeling the slight ache of his legs but overall enjoyed the feeling of being thoroughly rested, a feeling he hadn’t been able to achieve in a very, very long time. The stress of winning- of being at the top no matter what- took its toll.
Sweet humming and the clank of dishes filled his ears. Suddenly, his nose took notice of the smell of perfectly seasoned fish and rice, along with various other food scents. His mouth watered. Carefully, he got to his feet and followed the scents to the kitchen/dining area. What he saw momentarily took his breath away.
Furihata was preparing a salad, turned mostly away from Akashi so he didn’t notice the other male’s entrance. The brunette’s bangs were pinned up on top of his head, his forehead very slightly glistening with perspiration from slaving over the hot stovetop. Nimble fingers gabbe chopped ingredients and tossed them into the salad bowl. Petal pink lips were pressed together, the sweet humming coming from them. Chocolate mocha irises sparkled with concentration as they focused on the task in front of them, the flecks of green and gold reminding Akashi of sunlight filtering through the leaves of the trees that surrounded the basketball court where he learned to play. But above all this, Akashi noticed the boy’s body. His frame was not scrawny, but leanly muscled. The way his shoulders peeked out from the white tank-top he wore, his defined collar bone melting into smooth muscled biceps made Akashi’s mouth water. A feminine looking purple apron was tied around his neck, the straps tied around the curve of his lower back and bringing Akashi’s gaze to the slim hips and toned legs. Furihata was barefoot, the picture of domesticity.
Akashi had known since he hit puberty that he was pansexual. Gender made no difference to him- as long as the person had the right personality and was able to hold intelligent conversation, he cared not what was or wasn’t between their legs and whether it did or did not match up with what was on their chest. But feeling so attracted to a person so quickly- this was unprecedented.
“Oh!” Furihata finally noticed him standing there and jumped, almost flinging the bowl of spinach salad across the kitchen. Akashi had to suppress a laugh.
How odd.
“Akashi-san! You’re awake!”
“Furihata,” Akashi nodded. “I apologise for the imposition on your home.”
“No problem!” Furihata grinned. “It’s not trouble! In fact, do you want to stay for dinner? My mother and the twins are due home any minute, so we’ll be eating very soon. I made tofu and lentil soup for the main course and salad with seared mackerel on top with rice as a side. It’s full of protein, exactly what your muscles need after working them so hard.” The slight scolding tone in his voice fascinated Akashi. It was almost as if Furihata truly cared about Akashi’s health.
Weighing his options, the curiosity about how the other male’s cooking would taste won out and Akashi found himself nodding. “I would very much appreciate a meal, thank you.”
“Oh,” Furihata blinked, shocked that he had accepted the invitation. A sunny smile spread over his features. “Okay! The table is cleaned and I set out dishes for everyone. You can go back into the living room until my mom and the twins arri-” he was cut off by the banging of a door hitting the wall.
“We’re home!” a voice shouted eagerly.
“Kenji! Keep your voice down, you’ll disturb the neighbors!” an more mature female voice scolded. “And Takumi, help me carry this inside.”
“Ah, they’re here,” Furihata smiled fondly as he wiped his hands off and exited the kitchen, gesturing for Akashi to follow. The redhead did, curious to meet this strange man's family. Perhaps they would shed some light on why he acted this way. “Kaa-chan, we have a guest!” he called out as he rounded the corner, the entryway coming into view. Akashi was momentarily startled by the informal way Furihata addressed his mother.
“Ah, Kōki-chan!” the woman was nothing like Akashi had expected. She had deep raven hair, pulled back into a bun with bangs framing her face. She looked to be in her late twenties, much too young to have a son in high school. Her eyes were a startling, crystal blue, the color of the sky on a cloudless day. It made her appear almost child-like in her expressions, her full lips- much like Kōki’s- were petal pink and stretched into a sunny smile. Aside from their smile, mother and son looked almost nothing alike.
“Nii-chan!” the two young teen boys exclaimed at the same time. Furihata laughed and greeted them by ruffling their hair- it was raven black, like their mother’s, but they shared Furihata’s brown eyes, perhaps a shade lighter, though.
“Well, Kōki-chan? Introduce us to our guest!” Furihata-san ordered as she unloaded her work bag and dropped her keys in the dish on the table next to the door. She slipped off her shoes and put on house slippers as Kōki introduced them, blushing slightly at his blunder.
“Ah, right, Kaa-chan, this is Akashi Seijuurou, he’s the Captain of one of our rival teams, Rakuzan High. I came across him while shopping and he was injured from practice so I brought him back here to make him rest properly.” The slight disapproval at Akashi’s actions was evident in Furihata’s tone. His mother picked up on it with a fond smile and bowed politely to Akashi.
“We’re delighted to have you in our home, Akashi-san,” she greeted. “My name is Furihata Yue, and these are my youngest sons, Keiji and Takumi,” she gestured to each boy respectively.
“Moshi-Moshi, Akashi-san!” Keiji exclaimed.
“Baka!” Takumi slapped his brother on the back of the head with his sketchbook. “That’s how you answer a phone!”
“I know that!” Keiji pouted.
Akashi felt his lips twitch at their antics. They didn’t seem to fear him at all. How strange.
“Oh, I have to start dinner!” Furihata-san exclaimed.
“No need, Kaa-chan,” Furihata smiled. “I just need to finish the salad. Everything else is done.”
“Kōki,” his mother sounded fondly exasperated as she put a hand over her face to hide her smile.
“I won’t hear it! You’ve had a long day at work and you’ve dealt with these two devils,”
“Hey!”
“So I made dinner and we’re all going to sit and eat it and you’re going to like it!” Furihata mock-frowned at his mother, shaking a finger at her. She laughed easily and nodded.
“Oh, alright. I swear, sometimes you remind me so much of your father,” Akashi instantly sensed the change in the atmosphere from hectic joy to bittersweet smiles. He concluded that Furihata’s father must have passed away.
The five of them moved to the dining area, settling themselves under the table and watching as Furihata brought out the food. It wasn’t long before Akashi felt Furihata-san’s gaze on him.
“So, Akashi-san,” she began. “Rakuzan is a prestigious school. I’m sure your parents are proud of your test scores.”
“Ah, my father has made no complaints,” that much was true “And my mother, sadly, has passed on. However, I would like to think she is proud of me still.”
“Oh, I’m very sorry for your loss. But I am certain she would be.” There was a respectful pause as Akashi nodded his head graciously. “Kōki-chan was accepted into Rakuzan as well, but he wanted to go to Seirin.” This was news to Akashi. He moved his gaze to stare at Furihata curiously. The boy looked pained, his face flushed heavily and eyes practically begging his mom to stop bragging. It was adorable. Akashi bit back a chuckle.” I admit I was reluctant to send him to such a new school, but it seems to be going well. Do you have a favourite subject, Akashi-san?”
“Ah, I enjoy all my subjects. However, I would say I excel in Mathematics the most,” it wasn’t exactly a lie- he did excel in math. He just also excelled in everything else. But he did enjoy math class the most.
“Really?” Furihata piped up, suddenly interested in this conversation. “Math is my favourite!”
“Oh?” he raised a crimson brow. “Any particular reason why?”
“I don’t know… I guess because it makes sense. It’s so neat and orderly. There is always an answer. You can take an equation and add a formula and get an answer. You an break things down and solve the individual parts and get a whole answer. It’s just… rational. Except when it’s irrational,” Furihata laughed and Akashi felt himself join in with a light chuckle.
“That pun was the worst,” he complained.
“Shut up, you laughed!” Furihata protested.
“Yeah, because it was so bad,” Akashi shot back.
“Oh, whatever!” Furihata took another bite spitefully. Suddenly Furihata-san and the twins began to laugh.
“Oh my goodness, you two are so cute,” Furihata-san laughed.
To his horror, Akashi felt his face begin to burn, signalling his blush. Thankfully, Furihata was looking away. But his mother saw it and gave him a knowing look. Akashi redirected his attention to the soup now that his salad was finished. It was delicious.
“This meal is fantastically cooked,” he spoke up after his blush faded, meeting Kōki’s surprised gaze.
“Oh, thank you so much! I’m nothing special, though. You should taste Kagami-kun’s curry, he’s a really exceptional cook.”
“Ah, I will keep that in mind. If you say there is someone out there who cooks better than you I will suspend my disbelief until I’ve tried it and decided for myself.” Furihata blushed at the compliment and looked back down at the table. Akashi felt as if he had won a small victory, his heart racing so fast it felt like he was flying. It was a heady feeling.
The rest of the dinner went by fast, Furihata-san making small talk and the twins bickering with their older brother, providing entertainment for Akashi. The rest of the food was consumed with smiles and laughter, so unlike anything Akashi had ever experienced at his own house, even when his mother had been alive.
Finally, he was saying his farewells, checking his Rolex to make sure he wouldn’t miss the last train. It had gotten much later than he had originally intended. He thanked Furihata-san for her hospitality and she welcomed him back anytime, adding a wink behind her son’s back. Akashi smirked in response. The twins and their mother headed to their rooms and Furihata walked him to the door. He slipped on his shoes and picked up the bag with his new basketball shoes in it before shrugging his jacket on and turning back to face the shorter male.
“Uh…” Furihata stuttered awkwardly. “Sorry about dragging you around and stuff today.”
“It is fine. Besides, you took good care of me. I will contact my doctor about my knee as soon as I return home.”
“Good, good…” Furihata nodded. “Um…”
“Furihata-kun,” Akashi interrupted. “I am uncertain about how to say this… But I would like to thank you for your kindness today. I admit I was not having a good day but your care and hospitality improved my mood greatly.”
“You’re welcome, I guess. I was only doing what I thought was right,” Furihata shrugged. He scratched the back of his neck and blushed, bashfully looking at his own feet instead of Akashi.
“Furihata… Kōki,” the brunette snapped his gaze up to meet Akashi’s crimson irises. “I would like to ask you out on a date.”
“A-a-a WHA-?” Furihata sputtered adorably. “A-a d-date?”
“A date, yes,” Akashi couldn’t hide his amused smile, his eyes filled with more affection than he had previously believed himself capable of.
“But… why?”
“Because I have taken a liking to you, Furihata Kōki. And I wish for you to give me a chance to pursue you properly.”
“But why me?”
“Because…” Akashi thought back to Kuroko’s advice to just tell Furihata what he was feeling. “For the first time perhaps since middle school, I have felt… truly happy. Your care and company have made me feel this, Kōki.”
“O-oh,” Furihata furrowed his brow, seemingly struggling to wrap his head around this. Akashi couldn’t ignore the itching of his palms any longer. Carefully, he lifted a hand and placed it gently- very gently- on the side of Kōki’s face.
“You think too lowly of yourself. You have made me happy. Allow me to take you out. I’m not asking for marriage. I just want to see where this could go,” ‘And make you mine forever’ he added internally, but he wasn’t about to scare the shorter boy off with those words.
Furihata considered this for a moment before taking a deep breath. “Okay,” he agreed, leaning slightly into Seijuurou’s palm. His skin was so soft. His lips looked softer.
“May I… kiss you?” Akashi heard himself ask, unable to stop the words from escaping.
Startled earthen eyes met his own before fluttering shut, a small nod signalling his agreement. Akashi bit back a groan, slowly- too slowly- leaning in. His own eyes fell shut as he gently pressed his lips to the petal pink ones in front of him, his thumb caressing the soft cheek of this boy who caused him to feel so many new things. Electricity seemed to spark when their lips made contact and Kōki’s lips parted temptingly in a gasp. Akashi used all his restraint not to deepen the kiss and scare his new lover off. Instead, he kept it light, brushing their lips together until Kōki unfroze and returned the kiss. Unable to help himself, Akashi's tongue wept out and traced Kōki’s lower lip, tasting its sweetness oh-so-briefly before he pulled back. Furihata’s eyes slowly fluttered open.
“Kōki…”
“S-seijuurou,” Furihata sounded breathless. Akashi loved the sound of his given name on those lips.
“I have to go,” he said regretfully.
“Yeah,” they pulled apart slowly, Akashi’s hand dropping to his side once more, his palm burning. Furihata holding the door open for Akashi to exit.
“I’ll text you,” Akashi promised. He gazed down at the brunette for one more long moment before striding towards the apartment building stairs.
“You don’t have my number!” Kōki called after him.
Seijuurou turned and walked backwards, giving him a genuine smile that took his breath away. “I have my ways,” he laughed. And then he was gone.
Furihata shut the door behind him, leaning against it and slumping slowly to the floor, the echo of that wonderfully musical laughter ringing in his ears.
He was so screwed.
He’d never been happier.
He went to bed in a daze that night. And when he woke up, his phone buzzed with a text.
From: Unknown
I told you I have my ways. Are you
free on Saturday at 11? I miss your
smile.
The honest message made him laugh. Clearing the sleep from his eyes, he typed out a response.
To: Akashi Seijuurou <3
I’m definitely free. I miss your
laugh.
From: Akashi Seijuurou <3
Perfect. I’ll pick you up at 11:15. I
can’t wait to see you again.
Sighing happily and clutching his phone, Kōki flopped backwards into his pillows and giggled to himself. Pulling himself together, he sent one last message before rolling over and burying himself in blankets to bask in the feeling of flying for a while longer.
To: Akashi Seijuurou <3
Me neither :)