Chapter 1

Pathétique – in music, meaning "passionate" or "emotional," or evoking the emotions of pity, grief, or sorrow.

Music.

A universal language.

"He's yours."

A conversation without words.

A bow pulled across a string, the light tapping of a drum, the warm, rich sound of the French horn, all coming together to create one sound.

"I'm moving out of the country. I can't take care of him."

He could see it; the lights were hot on his face as he stepped out onto the stage to take a seat with the rest of his comrades, his violin in hand. He could hear the applause roaring from the darkened audience, the lights far too bright to make out any one face clearly.

And then, he could hear the tuning note sound, and he lifted his violin up by his chin and raised his bow to touch the strings, pulling and pushing it along the threads.

"No. I don't want anything to do with him. He's under your care now."

A sound.

There was a sound vibrating from his hand. Then, there were several sounds all vibrating at once. The vibrations moved and he could feel the stage underneath his feet begin to quake.

"Goodbye, Keiji."

He could feel the music in his feet.

"Akaashi…"

In his body.

"Akaashi?"

In his chest…

"A-kaa-shi?"

In his heart.

"Akaashi-san!"

Akaashi jolted, lurching forward to brace himself against the desk. He blinked rapidly as the yellowish room filled his sight, the computer to his left still playing the piece that he had gotten so lost in. He scrambled to pause the music on the computer and whirled around to see a few women standing behind him with irritated looks on their faces.

"Akaashi-san, the conductor needs the new parts now," one of them said. Her brow quirked in mild frustration and her lip was pulled to the side, almost in disgust.

"Mmn. Everyone is waiting on the stage!" the other girl added, folding her arms across her chest.

Akaashi blinked and turned around to see the clock on the wall of his tiny office. It was a little after 3 in the afternoon, but rehearsal should have started on time. And without the music, the musicians would have nothing to read for the rehearsal.

"Ah, right," Akaashi said, fumbling for the folder of music on his desk. "I'll be right there."

The women standing in the doorway of his office glanced at each other with disapproving looks before sauntering off towards the auditorium.

"He's worked here for how long as the librarian and he still can't get the music to us on time?" one of them whispered.

"Shh! His door is open! He'll hear you!" another said.

"I don't care! He needs to get us the parts on time. He's Akaashi-sama's son for crying out loud. He should know how to handle an orchestra!"

Akaashi's brows pinched over a twitching eye.

Calm, slow breaths, Akaashi told himself. The day is almost over. Just keep calm.

Akaashi grabbed the packet of music and stood to his feet, sighing as his back ached from sitting for so long. He stretched out his back before leaving the tiny office, his foot nudging the door shut with a harsh slam that rattled the loose window and startled the sound engineers next door. He could hear them hollering after him for keeping things quiet but he promptly ignored their voices.

Akaashi headed down the long, pale hallway, walking past the conductor's office. He read the black name on the plate that was stuck on the door. The characters were engraved in fine, smooth lines.

Conductor Mori was a harsh man. He was tall and broad, looming over the orchestra members like a brick wall. And yet, a majority of the orchestra members will go out to a bar and have a drink with him, all with smiles on their faces. It was a circle of respect that Akaashi had no place in.

Not that he cared or had time for such activities.

With another deep breath, Akaashi continued down the corridor and through one of the side doors of the auditorium. Immediately, Akaashi's eyes landed on Conductor Mori standing on his box on the stage, hunching over a music score on his stand. He was speaking to the orchestra, humming and singing out different parts and explaining exactly how he wanted it to sound.

There were several times when he had entered into this auditorium with a smile on his face. The lights would be bright and colorful against the royal blue curtains. The wooden stage glistened and sparkled after a fresh buff, and the room would always have the same smell. His father would hold onto his hand and…

His father…

"You're keeping it?!"

"You are making the biggest mistake of your life, Keiji!"

"Can't you see that you're throwing away everything you've worked for?!"

"Get out of my sight."

"I don't want to see your face."

Akaashi winced, clutching the parts to his chest.

The auditorium did not light up like it used to.

Akaashi tried to let the door quietly shut behind him, but it always made a horribly loud click, letting anyone and everyone know what poor soul had been late to rehearsal.

When the door inevitably clicked behind him, the conductor whirled around on his platform and eyed Akaashi with a surprised gaze. But his face quickly contorted to disgust, his nose lifting in contempt.

The tension was incredibly thick.

"How nice of you to join us, Akaashi-san," Mori called out, his voice echoing in the auditorium.

Akaashi felt several more eyes on him, making his ears burn. He quickly made his way up to the stage, ignoring the looks of disdain from the orchestra members. He zipped up the steps and handed the stacks to the designated principals, allowing those members to pass out the rest of the music to their sections.

"Anyway… Once you get your part, look to bar 32 on the first movement," the conductor continued as Akaashi made his way around the orchestra.

None of the members said a word to him as he passed out the parts. He bit the inside of his cheek and repeatedly told his face to stay neutral.

He finally made it to the back of the orchestra, where the percussionists sat. He gathered up their stack of music and handed it to the only friendly face he knew around the orchestra.

"And he finally arrives."

Akaashi's brow twitched. It was unfortunate that the only friendly face at the moment was messing with him.

"So, where were you?" Konoha whispered as he took the stack of music from Akaashi. "You took forever to get here. Mori-san is really mad."

"Just got distracted," Akaashi said, handing him one last part.

Konoha did not look convinced, and Akaashi repressed an annoyed sigh. He just wanted Konoha to take the parts before Mori threw his rage at the both of them.

"Distracted?" Konoha grumbled. "That's your excuse every time."

Akaashi finally released a short sigh through his nose. He shrugged, not in the mood to hash out everything with Konoha, even if he was his only friend.

"You know, if you keep being late, Mori is going to find a replacement," Konoha said, tucking the parts under his arm and placing his hand on his hip.

Akaashi furrowed his brows. He turned around abruptly, feeling his jaw moving back and forth as he began to grind his teeth.

"I appreciate your concern," Akaashi said as he took steps to leave the stage. "But I can handle it."

Konoha sputtered behind him. "Oi, Akaashi! Wait a sec!"

Akaashi sighed, feeling a headache coming on. It only added to the ache in his chest. He passed Mori on the way off of the stage without a word, but he could feel the conductor's harsh eyes following his retreating back as he walked up the side of the auditorium.

"All right. Now that you have your parts, let's just do a read-through," Mori said, straightening his back.

His suggestion made Akaashi freeze. He whipped his head back to see Conductor Mori standing tall with his baton in the air. The string section all lifted their bows, waiting with strict concentration and heavy silence. The brass and woodwinds readied their instruments, their backs straight and ready to inhale.

Then, Mori lifted his baton and then lowered it back down.

And sound blossomed from the stage in an instant.

Akaashi darted to a nearby pillar to hide out of sight, pressing his back against it and holding his breath.

He knew the piece very well. He had performed it before, many times. It started with the same beautiful chords in the strings, the sound swelling and expanding to the brass and winds, and then tapering off with a roll of a suspended cymbal.

Akaashi's heart was pounding. For a moment, his dull little world had started to glow. The dreary colors of the wall brightened, the hues popping before his very eyes.

The hollow feeling in his chest was replaced by warmth that he had not felt in a long time.

He felt that he could lose himself in the flow of the music.

Yes, Akaashi thought, closing his eyes. This sound is… amazing.

His muscles relaxed and the tips of his fingers tingled. He could feel his chest vibrate from the sound as it travelled throughout the auditorium, bouncing off of the walls and rising through the floor. He could feel the pulse of the drums in his teeth.

It's almost enough. I can almost feel the sound completely.

The sound dwindled down to a light hum in the brass and woodwind, the timpani rolling softly. Akaashi took a slow deep breath.

Okay. Up next is the solo.

He closed his eyes and gripped his shirt near his heart.

He wanted the music to reach him.

He wanted the sound to course through his whole body.

He wanted to feel.

Akaashi lifted his arms, holding an invisible violin and bow tucked under his chin delicately. He raised the bow, ready to strike at the right speed.

It begins delicately…

Akaashi pulled his arm down.

Like… this…

Suddenly, a sharp sound pierced through the auditorium, making Akaashi jolt and snap his eyes open.

The violin in his hands had suddenly vanished, the illusion shattering before his very eyes. He blinked rapidly as his eyes adjusted to seeing the dull and drab room once again, the colors all gone.

What is that?

Akaashi shifted against the pillar and then he peeked around the side to gaze up at the stage.

The first violinist was staring sternly at his music, his fingers moving rigidly along the strings.

Wait…

That's… that's not how it goes.

Akaashi could feel his teeth grinding against each other as the sound pummeled his ears.

It sounded as if the violinist was trying to be as loud as he possibly could. But Akaashi knew better.

This solo isn't supposed to be loud, Akaashi said. It's supposed to be soft, delicate.

You're telling a story. Don't you know that?

He pouted, biting his lip and glaring up at the principal violinist, watching him as he continued his solo.

I could play that better, Akaashi thought bitterly.

Back in college, he could play circles around this current violinist.

He was the best in the school.

He always played with the right notes, the right tone.

He could play that better!

"Can't you see that you're throwing away everything you've worked for?!"

Akaashi felt his chest cave in, his heart squeezing painfully. He leaned back against the pillar and sighed heavily, closing his eyes and blocking out the sound that grated against his ears.

Well… I could have played that better… before…

The hollow feeling in his chest returned, making the ache throb on every pulse. For a few fleeting seconds, Akaashi had felt relief—relief from the stabbing and sinking pain in his chest. He longed for a day when that relief would become permanent.

But… how long until then?

Akaashi took slow, deep breaths, letting the pain die down until he felt numb. His eyes fluttered shut, sucking in another harsh breath to hold back the tears, and then he let his shoulders slump.

He opened his eyes and pushed himself up from the pillar. With one last fleeting glance back at the violinist, he hurried out of the auditorium, the solo ending just as the door clicked shut behind him.

Akaashi could feel his eyelids growing heavier as each second ticked by. The music player on his computer was minimized and quiet, the screen overtaken by multiple search tabs of music websites. Conductor Mori wanted more music ordered, and Akaashi had to find the right price to please him.

Being the Orchestra Librarian for the Tokyo Philharmonic Orchestra was stressful, especially when they just performed a concert. Once a concert was over, he had to collect the old music, organize it, and then make sure the new music was ready to go. And when he was done organizing, he was calling publishing companies to find the best deals on music and scores, making sure that the music was clean of pencil markings by the time the musicians received the parts.

And then, there was the job of writing in the proper bowings for the string sections. That job took the longest, but it was the one that Akaashi knew best.

He was currently pressing a white eraser into a yellowed piece of music, gently pushing the jagged pencil marks away and blowing away the shavings. He wished the musicians would press more lightly with their pencils. This particular piece was rented, for crying out loud.

Akaashi felt his brow twitch. He was in no mood to get chewed out by Mori for fines about "damaged" music. He had been messing up enough lately already.

I'm already on Mori's bad side, Akaashi thought.

It seems that all I do nowadays is mess up.

When can I get a break from this?

"Akaashi!"

Akaashi nearly jumped out of his skin at the voice coming from behind him, making him drop his eraser in the process. He turned his head back to see Konoha standing in the doorway with his hand sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck.

"Whoa, sorry. Didn't mean to scare you," Konoha apologized.

Akaashi quickly schooled his face and put up a hand.

"You did no harm," Akaashi said. He leaned down and picked up his eraser from the floor, turning back to the desk to continue his work.

"Still working?" Konoha asked.

"Mmn. These parts have to go back to the rental company with no marks on them," Akaashi explained. He sent a glare over his shoulder. "The percussion parts seem to be particularly messy."

Konoha chuckled lightly, his hand carding through his hair.

"Sorry about that," Konoha said. "I keep telling the guys to go easier on the music, but…"

Akaashi sighed, his shoulders slumping. He turned back around, facing away from Konoha.

"It's not your fault. I know they do it to spite me," Akaashi said.

"Akaashi…" Konoha whispered.

Akaashi winced, trying to ignore the pain in Konoha's voice. He sat up straighter and mentally shook the pain away from his mind.

"What are you doing here anyway? I thought you guys were rehearsing the new piece," Akaashi said, working on rubbing out a stubborn breath mark.

"Huh? Oh, uh, yeah. We were. But… rehearsal ended," Konoha said.

Akaashi froze.

His eraser was still pressed to the music, his hand beginning to shake. He blinked a few times, tossing around the sentence over in his mind. He turned his head back to look at Konoha with a strained expression.

"It… ended?" Akaashi asked.

Konoha leaned against the doorframe, folding his arms across his chest. He nodded towards the hallway.

"Yeah. We already cleared the stage for the night," Konoha said.

Akaashi's heart jolted, rising up to clog his throat. He stood to his feet and craned his head up to look at the clock.

It was half past five in the evening.

"Oh, crap. I'm late!" Akaashi said frantically. He turned towards his desk and quickly began to pack up his things.

"Eh? Akaashi, what's wrong?" Konoha asked, pushing himself up from the doorframe.

"How could I be so late again?" Akaashi said under his breath, shoving his laptop into his shoulder bag along with his notebook and pencils. He would just have to come in early the next morning to finish cleaning the music. He had no time for this now.

He turned towards the door and quickly flipped off the light switch to his tiny office. He gently pushed Konoha out of the way and shut the door behind him.

"Hey, what's going on? Akaashi—"

"Sorry, but I have to go," Akaashi said. He gave a short, quick bow. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Oh, uh… okay, Akaashi," Konoha said as Akaashi brushed past him. "Hey, we should go get a drink sometime! Just, you know, to hang out."

Akaashi simply waved his hand in the air and gave a noncommittal hum as he turned the corner and hurried down the hallway towards the exit.

He's going to be so upset that I'm so late…

Akaashi's hand gripped the strap of his bag and he huffed quietly.

I just hope he had a better day today.

He made it to the end of the hall and pushed the door open that led to the street. He took one step out and then skidded to a halt before he collided with a tall, broad body. Akaashi's eyes lifted to meet none other than Mori's, a cigarette pinched in between his fingers. His eyes narrowed when his gaze met Akaashi's, sending a shiver down Akaashi's spine.

Akaashi swallowed thickly and lowered his gaze, giving the looming conductor a quick bow before scurrying past him.

"Those copies need to be cleaned and sent back by Monday," Mori said, making Akaashi stop on the sidewalk.

Akaashi could feel the exhaustion of the long day creeping up on him, his shoulders aching and neck stiff.

I know, Mori-san. I'm trying to get everything done.

He turned to look back at Mori, his shoulders tense. He took a slow breath through his teeth and nodded once.

"I will get it done," Akaashi said, his voice small.

Mori studied Akaashi for a minute before he took another puff of his cigarette and blew white smoke into the air.

"You know, Akaashi, I expected better from you," Mori said. "Especially with you being Akaashi Kyosuke's son and all."

Akaashi winced at hearing his father's name roll off of Mori's tongue. He could feel his watch ticking on his wrist, the seconds going by quickly. He glanced down the street towards the station, his hands fidgeting by his sides.

"In all honesty, I had hoped that you would've been sitting as principal," Mori said, taking another long drag of his cigarette. "But you never showed up to the audition that day."

Akaashi's eyes snapped back to meet Mori's gaze, his heart flipping inside his chest. His eyes narrowed, feeling something hot burning in his stomach. His hand clenched his bag while his other formed a shaking fist.

I don't need you bringing up my failures, Akaashi thought bitterly. I don't need any of this.

The sound of an oncoming train pulling into the nearby station jolted Akaashi back to reality. His watch felt heavy on his wrist, feeling another second tick by.

Right. I've got to get going.

Akaashi suddenly bowed at the waist to Mori, his arms stiff by his sides.

"Sorry, but I have to get going," Akaashi said. The apology tasted like vinegar on his tongue.

Mori simply hummed and Akaashi quietly huffed as he straightened and hurried down the sidewalk and into the train station. He quickly boarded the parked train just before the doors closed behind him. He glanced down at his watch to look at the time and he clicked his tongue in annoyance.

I'm a failure at my job.

Am I a failure at being a parent, too?

When the train finally pulled to a stop a few minutes later, Akaashi rushed out of the station and down the street to the small building next to the fire station. He glanced up at the colorful "Preschool and Daycare" sign that hung above the doors.

He rushed up to the entrance, squinting through the glass doors as he approached. The building looked mostly empty on the inside. It made Akaashi's gut twist like a wet rag.

He quickly entered inside and glanced around the quiet space for that familiar face.

"Ah, Akaashi-san!"

Akaashi jolted and whipped his head to the side.

In the corner of the room was the preschool teacher, her hair pulled back into a ponytail and her usual tired smile on her face.

Standing next to her was a small boy with black hair and deep, navy blue eyes.

And his name was Akaashi Tobio.

Tobio was staring hard at the ground, barely even moving. He did not even look up to see his father entering the building. It made Akaashi's heart quicken in alarm.

Had something happened?

The preschool teacher lifted her hand in a wave, beckoning Akaashi to approach. Akaashi snapped out of his stupor and hurried over to them, his eyes trained on his son's solemn face until he stepped in front of the teacher.

"Sorry I was late," Akaashi apologized to her.

How many times am I going to apologize for this? Akaashi thought guiltily.

The teacher sighed, letting her smile drop a little.

"I know your schedule is busy," she said, sounding a little disappointed. She turned to Tobio and gently patted his head, startling the boy a little. "But I'm sure Tobio is happy to see you!"

Akaashi glanced down at his son, who stood stiffly next to the teacher. He looked unsure of what to do and he would still not meet Akaashi's eyes.

"Hey, kiddo," Akaashi greeted with a small smile. He knelt down to his son to better see his drooping face. "How was your last day of preschool?"

Tobio's mouth wobbled, his eyes staring fiercely at the ground. His little hands were in trembling fists by his sides and his brows were pulled together tightly.

Akaashi's smile slipped into a frown at his son's reaction. Had it really been another bad day?

"What's wrong, Tobio?" Akaashi asked, tilting his head to try and find Tobio's eyes.

But Tobio lowered his head even more. He sniffled a little, his arm coming up to wipe his nose.

"No one wanted to play with me," Tobio said with a quivering voice.

Akaashi inhaled sharply and winced.

Again? Akaashi wondered. He let out a soft sigh and rested his chin on his bent knees. How many times is he going to leave crying?

"I'm sorry, Tobio," Akaashi apologized, reaching up to run his fingers through Tobio's hair.

But Tobio flinched away from Akaashi's hand, more tears coming down his cheeks. Akaashi's hand slowly fell back down to hug his knees, his brows scrunched up as he watched Tobio's shoulders wrack with silent sobs. His little hands reached up to rub his eyes pitifully.

"Oh, my," the teacher gasped from above them, and Akaashi tilted his head up to look at her. "I figured he was just quiet today. I had no idea he was this upset."

Akaashi shook his head gently and put up a hand.

"No worries. It's not your fault," Akaashi said. He pushed himself up from his crouched position and stood on his feet.

"But I really hoped Tobio would have a good day today. Especially since it was his last day," the teacher said, leaning down to rub the back of Tobio's head. "He looked like he was doing fine."

Akaashi watched as Tobio's hands dropped from his eyes and he stared up at his teacher with sad, wet eyes. He sniffed a few times, the tears still coming out in thick drops. He huffed a few times to try to catch his breath and he wiped his face with his sleeve.

"Are you feeling better, Tobio?" the teacher asked.

Tobio sniffed, his arm still rubbed furiously against his eyes, and he nodded slightly. The teacher smiled and patted his back.

"Good. Keep taking big breaths," she said sweetly.

Akaashi watched as his son finally dropped his arm from his eyes and stared up at his teacher, tears still clinging to his lashes.

Akaashi's heart ached. He seemed to calm with his teacher's comforting hand, but when it came to his own father, Tobio had flinched away.

Maybe I am failing at being a parent…

"Okay, Tobio. Let's get you signed out so you can go home, okay?" the teacher said.

Tobio nodded and waddled over to backpack in the corner, haphazardly stuffing his toys and crayons away. The teacher turned her attention back to Akaashi, her smile fading slightly.

"Have you found a kindergarten for him?" she asked.

"Oh, uh," Akaashi stumbled, "Yes. It's the one that's closest to my work."

"Closest to your work?" the teacher said, puzzled. She thought for a minute, placing a hand on her chin. Then, her eyes lit up in recognition. "Oh! You mean the kindergarten that's using Fukudorani High's empty classrooms?"

Akaashi nodded once, his heart squeezing.

He remembered making the last minute enrollment for Tobio into the kindergarten program, but he had not realized that their building was closed for the year due to construction. So for the upcoming year, Akaashi would have to escort his four-year-old into a high school. To say that he was nervous was an understatement.

"It's a great school—both the kindergarten and the high school. I know a lot of teachers over there," the teacher said as Tobio padded back over next to her. "I'm sure Tobio will find some wonderful friends there."

Akaashi glanced down at Tobio, whose eyes were reddened but dry, at least. He extended his hand down to his son, and slowly and tentatively, Tobio reached up to grasp it.

It brought a small smile on Akaashi's face. It was a small victory.

"Oh, and Akaashi-san," the teacher said, pulling Akaashi's attention back.

When he looked up at her, her face had gone a little stern with her smile pulled tight. Akaashi could feel cold sweat beading on his neck, and he straightened his back, feeling stiff.

"Try not to be late anymore, okay?" she said. "Tobio is at a critical age where he needs his parents to be there for him."

Akaashi winced.

Parents, she says.

Meaning both.

Any shred of happiness that he had felt just a split second earlier had now been completely shattered.

He squeezed his son's hand, nodding once, the weight of the world on his shoulders.

"I know."

Akaashi's chest felt heavy, as if a ton of bricks were sitting on his heart and lungs.

At some point during the walk home, Tobio had wriggled his hand out of Akaashi's, opting to clutch on to his tiny backpack's straps. He was no longer crying but his eyes were trained on the ground, his face pulled together in a tired pout.

Akaashi sighed, his eyes stinging.

If you had been paying attention to the time, maybe you wouldn't have been so late, Akaashi told himself.

And maybe… maybe he wouldn't hate you right now.

Akaashi's hands curled into tight fists, feeling strangely overwhelmed.

His father, his boss, his son…

Why can't I connect with anyone? Akaashi thought as he and Tobio came to a stop at an intersection.

"No. I don't want anything to do with him. He's under your care now."

Akaashi inhaled softly, hearing that smooth, crystal voice echo in his ears from memories past. He remembered the suitcase by the front door, a screaming baby…

… those cold, cold blue eyes.

"Goodbye, Keiji."

A car zipping by yanked Akaashi out of his thoughts and back to the present, making him gasp and blink rapidly until his vision cleared. He took a moment to catch his breath, feeling the sweat glide down his neck, and then he glanced back up at the road.

The traffic was heavier than usual. Everything from smaller cars to big trucks passed by in front of his eyes, all of them seemingly faster than normal.

Akaashi's shoulders sagged, his brows pulling together as his mind drifted into a haze.

I wonder…

Akaashi watched as a large bus passed by.

… if I were to step out into the road…

Another bus passed.

He felt his foot move.

And he suddenly was drawn closer to the edge of the road.

… would it kill me instantly?

"Daddy?"

Akaashi's heart leapt inside his chest and he jumped, whirling around to see his son staring up at him with a strange look on his face.

"Tobio…" Akaashi whispered.

"The light is still red," Tobio said, lifting a hand to point to the crossing sign across the street. "We can't cross, yet."

Akaashi followed his finger with his eyes and spotted the red light flashing on the other side of the road, indicating the pedestrians to stay put. He glanced back down at Tobio, his heart hammering inside his ribcage.

"Right," Akaashi said breathlessly. He leaned down and gently took Tobio's hand. "Good job watching. I wasn't paying attention, was I?"

Tobio just stared up at him wordlessly, his face pinching in confusion. Then he faced forward, oblivious to the whole ordeal. He did not notice the slight tremor in his father's fingers.

Monday came in a flash, and Akaashi was worse for wear. He had to come in over the weekend to finish cleaning the rest of the music, dragging his gloomy son along with him. Luckily, none of his other coworkers had come into the music hall day, so he felt calm. Being around his coworkers always made him feel on edge and anxious.

Once both he and Tobio were dressed, they walked out of their small apartment and headed down the road towards the train station. They boarded the train on time—thankfully—and headed in the direction of Fukudoroni High School.

Akaashi was nervous. He knew that the kindergarten building was under construction, but to hold classes at the local high school? Was that such a good idea?

He glanced down at his son, watching him as he stood quietly nearby. His blue eyes were focused on his shoes, his lips pulled into a pout. It was Tobio's usual expression, except for the squint in his eyes and his fidgeting hands.

It seemed Akaashi was not the only nervous one.

The train pulled to a stop at the next station and Akaashi gently guided Tobio off and out to the street. He had not said a word to him all weekend, and the guilt sat heavier on Akaashi's shoulders. He really should not have been late to pick him up on his last day of preschool.

Failure.

There was that voice again, ringing in Akaashi's ears.

You're a failure.

You should just disappear.

Akaashi shook his head, shoving the thoughts back down into the dark parts of his mind.

Not today, he decided. He would not have these intrusive thoughts today.

He took a deep breath and led Tobio into the front doors of Fukudoroni High School. He asked the woman at the front office about the location for kindergarten classrooms and she pointed him down the correct hallway. Akaashi gave her a quick bow and then led Tobio in the right direction. It led down a short hallway on the west side of the school. They came up to a classroom with colorful decorations posted on the door.

"Okay, Tobio, this is your classroom," Akaashi said, looking down at Tobio.

Tobio's face scrunched up as if he ate something sour and he reluctantly followed Akaashi into the classroom. There was a man in the far corner who wore a gentle smile, and had a mole under his right eye. He was talking to some of the other kids with a soft voice.

Akaashi glanced down at Tobio again and gestured towards the man in the corner.

"That must be your teacher. Let's go meet him, okay?" Akaashi said.

Tobio's lips pulled into a grimace and he shook his head, taking a tentative step back.

Akaashi sighed softly and reached down to take Tobio's hand, gently tugging him forward and pulling him into the classroom. He could feel Tobio resisting, his heels desperately trying to dig into the carpet.

When they got close, the man glanced up from the students and smiled brightly.

"I'll be right back," he told the other kids before leaning up. He met Akaashi halfway and stood with his hands on his hips. "Welcome! I'm the kindergarten teacher, Sugawara Koushi."

Akaashi bowed politely to him. "It's nice to meet you. I'm Akaashi Keiji," he introduced.

"Nice to meet you, Akaashi-san," the teacher greeted with a smile. He turned to Tobio and leaned over on his knees to offer a gentle smile. "And this must be a new student! What's your name?"

Tobio blinked up at Sugawara, and then lowered his head, his hands clenching the frayed straps of his backpack.

"A-Akaashi To… Tu… Tobio," Tobio stuttered out with furrowed brows.

Akaashi managed a small smile and patted his back gently. He looked to Sugawara, keeping a hand on Tobio's shoulder.

"Um, I have Tobio signed up for the aftercare program since my work runs long…" Akaashi said, unsure of where he was going with his sentence. Luckily, Sugawara's eyes lit up and he nodded.

"Ah, okay! Pick up will be in the gym," Sugawara explained.

"The gym..." Akaashi echoed. "Got it. Thank you, Sugawara-san."

Sugawara waved his hand in the air. "Please, call me Suga. It's easier that way."

"Oh, uh. Okay, Suga-san," Akaashi said. "Um… so, where is the gym exactly?"

Suga smiled and then pointed towards the doorway.

"The entrance is just down the next hall, actually. It's on the right side. You can't miss it," Suga said.

Akaashi nodded. "Got it. Thank you, Suga-san."

"Mmn!" Suga smiled and nodded. He glanced down at Tobio and held out his hand to him. "Well, Tobio, are you ready for your first day?"

Tobio stared at Akaashi's hand with a furrowed brow. He bit hit lip, his eyes quickly snapping up to meet Suga's gaze, and he shook his head furiously.

"Tobio…" Akaashi whispered.

"I-I… I don't wanna go," Tobio whispered sadly.

"Oh, dear…" Suga said softly.

Akaashi's lip pulled to the side, his brows pulling together.

He's like this because of you.

Akaashi huffed out an annoyed sigh, mentally telling that voice to shut up. He then knelt down to Tobio and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Just try it, okay, Tobio?" Akaashi said. "You might make a new friend."

Tears suddenly spilled from Tobio's eyes and his trembling lips pulled into a pout. He sniffed harshly and lowered his head down to the ground.

"I'll be your friend, Tobio," Suga said, taking both of Tobio's hands.

Tobio looked up at Suga, tears still falling down his cheeks. He seemed unsure, and so he turned to look up at Akaashi, his eyes pleading.

Akaashi winced, raising his hand to pat Tobio's head. He felt unsure of how to handle the five-year-old's mood and was at a loss of how to help him. He knew that Tobio needed to go to school. But he also knew that Tobio had problems making friends. He could only hope that this year will be different.

Maybe if you spent more time with him, he'd have more friends.

Shut up, Akaashi thought, forcefully shoving the thought away from his mind.

"C'mon, Tobio," Suga said, standing to his feet. He held on to Tobio's hand and gestured to the other kids in the classroom. "Let's go meet some of the other students, okay?"

Tobio hesitated, looking back up at Akaashi again with pleading eyes. Akaashi nodded at him, pushing his shoulder gently.

"Just try, Tobio," Akaashi said. "You never know. You might have a good day."

Tobio blinked up at his father for a moment, and then he quickly frowned, fresh tears sliding down his cheeks. He jerked his shoulder away from Akaashi's hand and took a small step forward towards Suga, lowering his head to stare at the ground. Akaashi sucked in a quiet breath and held it in his lungs.

His chest burned.

Suga gripped Tobio's hand, a concerned frown touching his lips. He quickly pulled his lips up into a sheepish smile, looking up at Akaashi tentatively.

"I'll make sure he finds someone to bond with," Suga said.

Bond. What an interesting way to phrase that.

"S-Sure," Akaashi said. He waved his hand at Tobio, trying to catch his son's gaze. "I'll be here this afternoon to pick you up, Tobio."

Tobio sniffed and turned his head away sharply. He remained silent, pointedly ignoring his father.

Akaashi stood, dumbfounded, as Suga waved to him instead. His hand lowered to his side and he turned to the door. Every joint was stiff as he headed out of the classroom, throwing back one more tentative glance in the room before scurrying out to the hallway.

He's never going to make friends. He always pushes them away.

Just like you.

Akaashi felt his gut churn as he stomped down the hall, his hands curled into tight fists. His breaths started to quicken as the thoughts came barreling at him even more.

You're a terrible father.

Stop it.

You're worthless.

No.

It's no wonder she left you.

Akaashi reached up and tugged on his hair, feeling a sharp pain on his scalp.

You should just disappear.

"Oi! Pass it to me!"

Akaashi jolted to a stop.

His thoughts dissipated in a flash as he turned his head towards the loud, boisterous yell that echoed from down the hall.

Just down the hall, there was a pair of doors, one of the doors opened ajar. The word "West Gymnasium" hung over the door.

Gymnasium? Akaashi thought.

His feet led him down to the doors.

A squeak of shoes, the sound of a palm slapping against the ball…

It was just like the best times of his high school career.

"Over here!"

"Nice cover, nice cover!"

Akaashi poked his head in the door.

What harm would it do to just look?

"Give it to me!"

Akaashi stopped in his tracks, his eyes widening.

Black and white hair. Golden eyes. And a smile that could blind the sun.

He leapt from the court, arching back with his arm tensed and ready to strike. The ball flew directly to him in a perfect arch and his powerful arm spiked the ball down on the floor on the other side of the net with a ceremonious slap. It hit unreturned and bounced back against the far wall.

Akaashi stood, stunned, as the man landed back on his feet. He pumped his arms, letting out a loud roar.

"Yes! Hey, hey, hey!"

Akaashi's eyes widened at the sound as it echoed around the room. And then he blinked back to life, his heart stuttering in his chest.

The room was filled with color.