Ever since Rakuzan had lost…

No one could have imagined it. Lose? Rakuzan? Was that even possible?

It was unfathomable.

There were certain things that you could be sure of in life. Pigs do not fly. Hell would never freeze over. And Rakuzan did not lose.

And number three, especially, is the one you would be willing to bet your life on.

But no…forget Rakuzan.

The thing that made this…-what would you even call it?-…slip up so improbable was because of the one. Him. The Emperor.

Rumor…no, legend… had it that the Emperor had never relinquished victory to anyone, be it friend, be it foe, be it fate. He simply did not lose.

And it was simple. So, why had he let this happen?

As shocked as the people were, they could only imagine how pissed the Emperor would be. They could only wait and see.

But again…their minds could not keep up with the moods of the Emperor.

No, he was not pissed. Or angry. Or even mildly annoyed. No…

He looked…he looked…he looked…happy.

Free.

Peaceful.

Content.

Wait, what?

He had changed, for sure. No longer was he the intimidating force they had been afraid to approach in bygone days. Now reigned in its place a force of such ingratiatingly good manners that now all who came into his presence, even those with ill-will, were swept up into a perfect, harmonious interaction with him and all those in his radius.

And so the days had passed…in laughter, song, and joyous celebrations as Rakuzan had once again picked up their winning pace, led by their Emperor.

He continued to win in everything. But no longer did he attach such a life or death significance to everything he did.

At home, things were…okay. His father had been, understandably, upset at his son being the first Rakuzan captain to lose in five, or six years, therefore staining the Akashi name, but…the punishment was a bit...surprising.

"You will continue to play basketball," had been his father's orders. "And you will win the next Winter Cup and restore dignity back to the Akashi name."

It was no secret to Akashi that his father did not really take pride in his son for playing basketball. But, he allowed it. But it had always been with restrictions, a seventh priority on a list that went only up to five, so to speak. Now, he was practically ordering him to enjoy himself.

Akashi bowed to hide his smile. "Yes, Father."

So life was bliss. The loss…the pain in his chest that day was a now distant memory, a wound that had long stopped throbbing and was slowly beginning to heal.

Akashi was a changed person. But change, as everyone knows, does not come over night.

A friendly game of street ball between Akashi and another kid turned violent when the kid began to mock Akashi, saying, "You will lose for the second time, Akashi. I will be the Emperor, ha ha!"

The forced smile that rose to the surface looked more like a bloodthirsty grin. "You are not a Generation of Miracle. I cannot possibly lose to you."

The kid stuttered a comeback. Akashi's eye began to glimmer gold in the sunlight.

"I lost once, true." He said. "I do not intend to lose again."

Ah…

…Some things never change…