I don't own Kuroko no Basuke.
Fools
Kōki didn't expect anything abnormal to happen on what had seemed like a perfectly normal Wednesday afternoon. He'd passed a broom over the floor of the shop, brushing the petals that had fallen off under the tables and taking out the dead flowers from the display when the shop was quiet, keeping happily busy serving customers at the usual rush around 3, taking orders on the phone and writing cards to put on the bouquets that would be delivered, trying to persuade Sakura to carry the new vases from the delivery van to the shop (and failing miserably). He was humming a song under his breath when the activity in the shop died down, preparing the flowers for a new display when the unexpected happened.
And as soon as it did, he felt sixteen years old again, hearing the muffled laughter of the audience as he trembled in front of the Emperor Eye and the world was blurred around him. He made a quiet, high-pitched sound and the vase slipped through his hands and crashed to the floor.
Akashi Seijūrō frowned slightly, his eyes flashing with some kind of emotion that Kōki couldn't decipher. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you," he said.
"No, it's... sorry... I... eh." The heat rushed to his face at his disjointed reply and he ducked down to gather the pieces of broken pottery and flowers.
"Allow me to pay for the vase."
"No; I-I hated it anyway. I would have thrown it... away." He stood up but caught his shoulder on the table and yelped. The pottery skittered onto the floor again.
When all the pieces were on the table and Kōki had stood up without another mishap, Akashi was still standing there, watching him with the still dichromate eyes.
Kōki swallowed and busied himself by pointlessly moving the bits of pottery from one side of the bench to the other. "Can... can I help you with anything?"
"Do I know you from somewhere?" Akashi put his head to one side and furrowed his eyebrows.
"I... uh..." Kōki tried to meet his eyes but couldn't quite bring himself to. "I was in Seirin's basketball team. With Kuroko Tetsuya-kun."
"Furihata Kōki."
Kōki's mouth dropped open. "Y-yes," he stammered.
He bought a garden pot with some lilies and left without another word.
"Who was that?" Sakura said, rounding the corner with two cups of tea in her hand and giving one to Kōki.
"An old... acquaintance, I suppose."
"You were acting weirdly around him."
Kōki sighed. "You can go home now, Sakura."
"Really?" she asked, though she'd already picked up her bag and was out the door before Kōki could answer.
Even if something strange had happened just the day before, Kōki doubted anything out of the ordinary would happen again. Certainly not two days in a row.
"You have a delivery," Sakura said lazily when Kōki entered.
"Where?" Kōki answered, turning the sign so 'Open' was facing outwards.
"I put it behind the counter," she said, sighing and dropping her head back.
He picked up the box, muttering under his breath, "I don't think I even ordered anything," as he opened it and brushed aside the styrofoam. "A vase?" he said, lifting it out.
"How did you afford to buy that?" Sakura said, crouching down to look at it. "It looks like an antique."
Kōki gaped at the blue vase, enraptured by the simple colours yet intricate designs. "I didn't buy it."
"It looks like it's from the 18th century or something."
The wind from the opened door lifted up a piece of paper which had been half-obscured by shadow from the box. Kōki caught it. The handwriting was unfamiliar and close in hand, careful and neat. I hope this begins to make up for my startling you yesterday. Akashi Seijūrō.
Kōki's heart kicked into double-pace as he placed the note into his back pocket and took a deep breath before putting on a cheery smile for the customer.
For the entire day, every time Kōki looked at the vase he was struck by its class and simple beauty. Sakura tried several times to find out where he had gotten the money or who had given it to him but he stubbornly held onto the assertion that he didn't know who would have given him such a beautiful gift. And at about the same time as the afternoon before, the man that had preoccupied his thoughts the entire day opened the door to the shop and came in.
Thankfully, Kōki wasn't holding anything and thus, instead of making a complete fool of himself he only made a half-fool of himself, stammering a greeting and tripping slightly over his foot. "Akashi-san, I can't possibly accept such a gift," he said, his face turning bright red as he steadied himself.
Akashi glanced at the vase, which was currently holding some ox-eye daisies. "What do you mean?"
"It's too much."
"It was nothing. A mere token."
Kōki shifted and looked back at the vase. "Th-thank you," he said, clasping his hands in front of him. "I-is there something I can help you with?" he said as casually as he could, turning to rearrange some flowers.
Akashi didn't respond for a moment and Kōki flicked a glance behind him, feeling flustered when he met Akashi's eyes for a split second. "I still feel bad, really."
"You have no reason to, Akashi-san."
"Still. Let me buy you a coffee or something along those lines. I know the owners of a chashitsu if you prefer."
Kōki couldn't help meeting Akashi's eyes then, even though his mind was reminding him that Akashi did not like people looking him in the eye.
But whether he wanted to or not (and of that Kōki was not sure; his mind certainly seemed to be split) Akashi Seijūrō was not the kind of man someone could refuse. He nodded. "I... sure. W-whichever you want."
"I'll pick you up when the shop closes," he said calmly, turning and walking out. He didn't check the closing times that were on the window, as if he'd actually planned it from the beginning.
Sakura's incessant, lazy drawl reached Kōki and she hoisted herself onto the counter before chuckling when she looked at him. "Your face is bright red. What on earth have you been doing?" Her lightly mocking tone didn't mask the curiosity in her voice.
"Nothing," Kōki answered defiantly. "Could you take the wilted flowers out of the displays please? I have... something to do."
Sakura rolled her eyes. "Oh come on. It's not as if you're doing anything tonight."
Kōki didn't answer and ducked into the back room. "Wait, are you?" she called after him. "Kou-chan?"
Kōki was thankful that there were still flowers in the back room. Unable to stay in the main shop with Sakura's questions, but needing to do something with his hands he started taking the dried lavender from the wall and picking the best ones to weave into a plait. The two hours before closing time passed quickly and before he'd really come to terms with the fact that he would be out with Akashi Seijūrō Sakura was calling to him that she would be closing up the shop.
"I can do that," he answered. "You can go home." To be honest, he wasn't entirely comfortable with her staying when Akashi would arrive.
She nodded and left, surprising Kōki again with her speed. "If only she moved that fast when I asked her to do something. Hiring her was really more trouble than-" the bell rang as the door opened and Kōki stopped sheepishly, feeling himself blush when Akashi entered.
He really had to get a handle on that. He didn't want Akashi to get the wrong idea.
"Are you ready to go, Kōki?" he said.
Kōki jumped at the easy way Akashi said his name and cursed himself mentally when he walked into the corner of a table.
He embarrassed himself again when he let them out and turned to lock the door behind him, fumbled with the key and dropped it into a puddle. He swore under his breath, bent down to pick it up and jabbed it forcefully into the keyhole.
"It's just down that street," Akashi said when he'd put the key back into his pocket without further mishap. Kōki looked up to see him gesturing down the road, where a couple of streets branched off. "I figured you wouldn't mind walking."
"N-no. I like walking," Kōki answered, then winced at his childish choice of words. He dug his hands into his pockets to hide the fact that they were still trembling.
The chashitsu which was their destination was one that Kōki immediately pegged as one that he would have passed, looked longingly inside before passing with a sigh. Stylish, simple and beautiful. And very expensive. Kōki let Akashi make the arrangements, not trusting himself to speak or even move lest he make a fool of himself.
"You can relax, Kōki," Akashi said. "I know the owners personally. My father is an investor. We'll be treated well."
Kōki couldn't respond other than a noise that he couldn't even decipher himself. Being reminded that Akashi himself was part of one of the richest families in Japan didn't help his nerves in slightest, oddly enough.
"Th-this isn't really..." Kōki shrugged, feeling more awkward, "the type of place I'm used to."
"Next time you can choose then," Akashi said with a smirk.
Next time? he thought. Naturally, the blush coloured his cheeks again and he stammered something that was halfway between actual Japanese and complete lunacy, just in time for an older woman that he presumed was the owner to come over and ask them whether they were ready to be seated, but not before she gave him an odd look.
The room they were brought to was opulent and relatively private, decorated with ghost orchids and kapudul flowers.
"Tea on the house for Akashi-sama and his companion," the woman said with a smile. Akashi bowed and Kōki squeaked, earning another odd look from the woman. Akashi turned his face away but from his shaking shoulders Kōki suspected he was laughing.
"I told you that you could relax, Kōki," Akashi said to him.
"I... uh, yeah. I'll try." To distract himself, he brought the vase which was in the center of the table closer to him and looked through the different flowers. All rare, all exotic, all way too expensive for him to ever have them in his own small shop. He'd never felt the difference between himself and the people who belonged in this world as strongly as right now.
"So, a florist?"
Kōki jumped. "Y-yes," he stammered. "It always interested me. There's no way I could have played basketball professionally."
"I always thought you were quite good."
"Well that's a lie," Kōki muttered.
He could have kicked himself when Akashi looked at him with unreadable eyes. This is it, he thought wildly. They'll find my bones a hundred years from now in the cement of some building.
But no, of course that was ridiculous. The Akashi family were investors and CEOs, not yakuza bosses.
"I... I mean, I was nothing compared to the others in Seirin."
He shifted on the cushion, trying to make it seem natural and putting the vase between them so his face was at least partly obscured. At least then he wouldn't be tempted to look Akashi in the eye (and consequently lose a finger, or his head).
"I suppose I was being tactful." There was a smile in the elegant voice and Kōki had to resist the urge to look across and see if he really was smiling. "What is it that interests you? About floristry, I mean."
Kōki paused. "I never really knew. Maybe that there really are no limits? I'd love to be able to grow my own flowers too, but I can't really afford the land. Japan has so many varieties." He bit down on his tongue. Talking about money in front of an Akashi was a bad idea; he'd probably never had an inkling that some people couldn't afford to throw money around as if it was nothing.
"I have land," Akashi said matter-of-factly.
Kōki frowned. "I'm sorry?" To be honest, he hadn't thought of Akashi (if he'd thought about him which was ridiculous, of course he hadn't) to be one to flaunt his possessions.
"It's not in use at the moment. You could use it."
Kōki moved the vase out of the way to look at Akashi, forgetting his fear of losing parts of his body if he looked him in the eye. "Are you serious? What would you... like for it?"
"Seeing it in use will be enough."
"Akashi-san... I don't know how to thank you."
He put his head to one side. "Just relax, Kōki. You still look terrified." The tea came then, and he accepted it with a polite bow. Kōki followed suit. "And perhaps...?" he paused and looked away. "Dinner tomorrow night? You can choose where we go."
Kōki couldn't say anything, just nodded. Obviously, blushing again. He was starting to forget what it was like to not blush.
They left after the tea, and Kōki started to regain his confidence. After all, he wasn't 16 anymore, he was a grown man, and being scared of someone, no matter how powerful they were, was completely ridiculous.
"Do you live close to your shop?" Akashi said.
"Uh... yeah. Just a little walk down the road."
"I'll walk you home then."
Kōki couldn't help but notice that Akashi was walking quite close next to him ('notice' being quite a weak word. Every nerve was tingling and his hands were trembling again). And after, when they'd reached their destination, Kōki turned to thank Akashi and tripped over something (his own foot… again) and fell forwards. Akashi caught him before he landed, but kept hold of him. "I'll see you tomorrow then, Kōki," he said, before leaning forwards, and quite as if it was something they'd done a hundred times before, kissed him.
Kōki couldn't move, couldn't respond in any way whatsoever other than gasping and gripping Akashi's arms. And it was only when Akashi brought him closer and tried to deepen the kiss that he regained control and stumbled away from him, breaking his hold.
"Akashi-san! You... you can't just..." his voice trailed away though he was fighting to make it audible. He could feel his heartbeat; it was shaking his entire body and he had to brace a hand against the wall.
Kōki knew that Akashi could see the effect a, facing it, simple gesture had upon him. It wasn't as if he'd never been kissed before – he'd been engaged, for goodness' sake. If it had been anyone else, Kōki would have left easily, laughing it off, and only been a little flustered, or if it had been a girl he would have gone with it, taking it as far as she would let him. But this was Akashi Seijūrō.
"I'll see you tomorrow, Kōki," he said with a casual, amused smile. He turned and lifted a hand, leaving as gracefully as he'd come.
Akashi Seijūrō was one to know what he wanted and to take it without much thought.
It wasn't as if he was necessarily cruel; just determined and decisive.
At least, that was what he told himself.
It was about a fortnight ago that he had happened to catch a glimpse of Kōki. During one of his regular visits to Tokyo he'd had the sudden urge to stop at a perfectly normal coffee shop that happened to be in front of the small flower shop, even when his usual chashitsu was just around the corner. He had just felt so weary of that life; felt a hundred years older than he really was. Even though his phone was vibrating every minute he had ignored it, firstly because he wanted to forget about life as he was forced to live it but then...
Furihata Kōki was not anyone extraordinary. Seijūrō had known it the moment he'd seen him eight exhausting years before. And not to mention he was within the presence of the Generation of Miracles, and someone else who was close enough to be considered on a par with them. But even as the names of the talented players of Seirin faded from his mind, for some reason Furihata Kōki's remained clear and rushed to the forefront when he saw the young man fumble with the key and open the door, letting a slightly younger-looking woman in ahead of him and laughing at something.
Seijūrō hadn't ever seen Kōki laughing; naturally he had been too terrified whenever he was in Seijūrō's presence, but he knew when he saw Kōki laughing that he wanted that to himself. Maybe to learn how he could be so light-hearted when Seijūrō was quite sure that the shop could not be doing particularly well. If nothing else, the boy could prove a useful and simple distraction from life.
And so, the next time he'd come down, it had seemed perfectly natural to go to the small shop and pretend not to have easily recognised him. And then, apparently, fall into courting the young man by sending him a gift and taking him out on what could only really be called a date.
Seijūrō had never had much of an issue with his sexuality (he had, in fact, thought that he didn't have one in particular but could don different ones depending on the situation) but during that evening with Kōki's little quirks, the way he had of fiddling with the front of his clothes and tugging on the lobe of his ear when he was nervous, quite obviously hiding himself behind the flowers and the almost constant pinkness of his cheeks he had his first worries that this wasn't a short-lived interest. When he was outside Kōki's door was the first time he had ever lost control of his inhibitions. It had been easy to kiss him, and to want to, and to want more.
At least he made it round the corner before he had to brace himself against the wall, knees trembling.
If there was one thing he knew, his father would in no way agree with it. The head of the Akashi family was exactly what he seemed; straight-laced and traditional. Seijūrō being attracted to a man would not be accepted.
But something compelled him to go further with whatever this was.
It wasn't as if anything with the boy would last.
"You have another delivery, Kou-chan," Sakura said as Kōki came into the shop.
Kōki yelped and jumped. "You're early," he said after he'd checked to make sure she wasn't a yakuza boss come to murder him.
She grinned. "And you're jumpy."
He pushed a hand through his hair. "You're early," he repeated.
"I felt guilty about taking off early the past couple of days," she said, shrugging.
"Actually I was hoping you would close up the shop and tidy tonight." Kōki crossed his fingers behind his back and tried to look innocent.
"Sure." But her eyes narrowed. "You have been acting oddly lately."
"Have I?" he said meekly. "Where's the delivery?"
"Well, yeah." She passed the package to him. "Oh and if there's a note I want to read it too. I noticed that you hid the other one. Have you got a secret admirer or something?"
"Don't be ridiculous," Kōki said, picking up the package and taking it to the back room.
"It's not ridi-" she made a sound of exasperation when he shut the door.
If anything, the vase in this package looked even more expensive. As Kōki lifted it up he could feel the ghost of Akashi's lips on his. And his stomach twisted with butterflies the same way it had then and the temptation that had surged up even as he'd broken away... the thought trailed off and he placed the vase carefully on the table.
"I've got to do something about that."
"About what?"
Kōki yelped again and turned. Just Sakura. It was fine.
"I told you. You're acting weirdly. Was there a note with it?"
"No. And who's watching the register?"
"Oh, fine." She turned back.
Kōki turned back to the vase uncertainly, putting a hand against his chest and trying to work out what the wild beating meant.
Kōki made sure that he was standing outside by closing time. The temperature had dropped by what seemed like twenty degrees from the night before and he shivered, wrapping his arms around himself and burrowing into his coat.
"Why didn't you wait inside?"
The yelp was all too embarrassing (and all too familiar to Akashi, he feared) and the mildly amused expression on Akashi's face made Kōki unable to say anything, for whatever reason.
"So where are we going?" Akashi said, raising an eyebrow (almost gracefully; how did that even work?) and putting his hands in his coat pockets.
"I thought I could make us dinner." Well, that wasn't bad to salvage the fact that he'd yelped. He'd almost forgotten how to talk without stuttering.
Although, really, he should have thought it through a bit more.
It wasn't that his apartment was awful – he loved it, in fact. But it was small, and obviously Akashi didn't fit in it. He belonged somewhere opulent, like that chashistu, with flattering light which softened the planes of his face and expensive, traditional furniture and rare flowers which probably cost more than six months' rent.
"I-I'm sorry, Akashi-san. It's probably not up to your standards," he said apologetically when he took Akashi's coat. He hung it up carefully and put his own coat as far away from possible from it.
"I'm not my father," Akashi said.
The tone of his voice caused Kōki's pulse to thud erratically. "O-of course not, Akashi-san, I didn't mean… I'm sorry," he said desperately. It would teach him not to invite a psychopath into his own home. There would be a kind of terrible irony about being killed in his own home with one of his own knives.
Akashi fixed him with an unreadable look.
He did feel more in his element when cooking, though. He was a creature of habit, after all, and he always made dinner as soon as he got home from the shop, though usually playing some western music at the same time. He doubted Akashi would appreciate American and British pop rock, though.
"Is chicken and rice okay, Akashi-san? I could make something different if–"
"That's fine," Akashi said with a small smile.
The rest of those twenty-or-so minutes were spent trying to forget that Akashi's eyes were on him.
Kōki was quite a disaster in the kitchen.
Not that Seijūrō was all that surprised, having witnessed a few times now how clumsy he was in general. How he didn't burn or cut himself he didn't understand, but he couldn't help a fond smile whenever a particularly large crash resounded from the kitchen. He was half-tempted to come closer and touch Kōki's arm, or his hip, just to make him even more flustered. It would lead so naturally to other things. Since he'd seen Kōki when he turned the corner, biting his lip and burrowing into his coat he'd been tempted to try it. Kōki had pushed him away the night before, but the blush, the way he avoided Seijūrō's eyes… it wouldn't take long.
And then he could finally find out what it was which interested him so much about him, be disappointed like always, and move on.
Kōki served them both portions and came into the dining room, setting the plates down awkwardly. Surprisingly, it did look good. With the mess he'd created, Seijūrō had anticipated something by Shintarō's standards. Meaning: completely inedible.
"I'm sorry," Kōki said, fiddling with the front of his jumper. Seijūrō noticed with a start that he looked good in it and felt heat rise up to his face. Oh, for the love of– If he wasn't careful, he'd turn into a caricature of Kōki. "You're probably used to something a lot better. I'm self-taught."
He sat awkwardly across from Seijūrō.
"This is fine," he said. "I was never allowed to indulge with food."
The food was good, better and more flavoursome than what he'd been allowed to eat during his days of training for basketball and horseriding.
"So, I was wondering…" he said, glancing at Kōki, who was very steadily looking at his plate. "Why did you choose basketball?"
The blush that rose in Kōki's cheeks definitely intrigued him further, as did the short, slightly high-pitched laugh. "It's a bit embarrassing." Akashi couldn't help but notice the way his hand tightened around the chopsticks and his jaw set. His eyes were flashing in a way that surprised even Seijūrō. He didn't say any more, which definitely irked Seijūrō, but getting angry at him would have been counter-productive to getting this… whatever it was, over and done with.
"That embarrassing?"
Kōki pushed a hand through his hair and Seijūrō tried to ignore how that made him look older and more… distinguished. His mind repeated the same profanity over and over as he resisted reaching out and pulling Kōki towards him. He wasn't used to having to resist what he wanted, but if he scared Kōki too much then there was no way he would get to the end of this temporary infatuation.
"The girl I was in love with said that she would date me if I became number one at something."
The way he said it made Seijūrō believe there was something else that he wasn't revealing, but he was more struck by the fact that Kōki had said 'girl'. So it would take more work than he had previously anticipated.
"Seems rather vain of her," he said experimentally.
Kōki shrugged before looking at him apologetically. "Sorry, I didn't mean to be rude," he said.
The temptation to prod more information from him was almost overwhelming but Seijūrō restrained himself. He was nothing if not polite. "So, about the plot of land," he held back the smile as Kōki looked up at him with the same wondering and happy expression as he had the night before, immediately reverting back to his more innocent self. "The shop is closed on Sundays, right? You can come have a look at it. I'll pick you up." His mind filled with images of what they could do in the back of a darkened car… but no. That was ridiculous; the plot was only a few minutes' drive away.
"Why me?" he blurted out.
Seijūrō frowned. "I'm sorry?"
"I… I'm really flattered, obviously, but there must be a lot of people in your acquaintance that would deserve it more than me."
"Deserve it more than you?" he put his head to one side. Kōki was really unlike anyone he knew, questioning himself at every turn. "Certainly not. The only people I know are corrupt businessmen or my former team members, who are corrupt enough in themselves."
"Corrupt? Your team members?"
Kōki shivered when Seijūrō looked at him. "Yes. I corrupted them."
The coldness of Akashi's eyes when he said those words froze Kōki solid, although when the gaze turned brooding and predatory some kind of long-forgotten instinct told him to run. Akashi was dangerous, he could see that. He stood up, breaking the tension as Akashi looked slightly dazed. "Would you like some water, Akashi-san?"
His expression inexplicably softened. "Yes, thank you."
He was still silently brooding when Kōki came back. "Akashi-san…" he trailed off and shook his head. "No. Sorry. Just… ignore me."
A small smile graced his features. "No, go ahead, Kōki."
He didn't realise until Akashi's gaze went downwards that he was plucking at his jumper. "Sorry," he said automatically, resisting the urge to sit on his hands. "I just wondered if you were still in contact with any of the generation of miracles."
"Sometimes," he said.
He was frowning at the table. Kōki shifted in his seat. "Well, they're not exactly corrupt, and they're all doing well. I'm still friends with Kuroko and he talks about his former teammates. I've seen them a few times, in fact."
"He talks about them… excepting me, I suppose."
Kōki didn't answer, which Akashi seemed to take as a confirmation. "I don't think that–"
"I don't blame him, of course," Akashi interrupted. His expression had darkened and his movements were changing slightly, somehow, becoming smoother and quicker. It reminded Kōki of a snake about to strike. His gold eye seemed to be glowing brighter and somehow the room was darkening around him. He didn't resist the urge to sit on his hands then. Better than showing how much his hands were trembling.
"He's doing well, though. He's happy with Kagami; they're very well suited even though they're so different. They're celebrating their three year anniversary next month and are looking to adopt and Kuroko has a job in a pre-school – which he loves – and Kagami is doing pretty well as a fireman. He's saved a lot of lives." The room had seemed to slowly gain light as Kōki was talking, at the same rate as Akashi's eyes had softened. "Quite a few of us are having a get-together soon, actually. I know that Kagami and Kuroko will be there, and probably Takao-kun and Midorima-kun. I know that Takao-kun and Kuroko have become good friends. And Kise-kun will definitely be there, he wouldn't miss a party of any kind, which means that Himuro-senpai will be there. I think he has a crush on Kise-kun." Akashi was looking rather shocked at the overflow of information, but he still listened, watching Kōki as if he was a child listening to a bedtime story. "I'm not sure about Murasakibara-kun; he tends to forget these things–" he was encouraged then by Akashi's fond smile, "but Himuro-senpai might remind him. And Momoi-san certainly wouldn't miss it. I think she's still quite fond of Kuroko even if she's married to Aomine-kun."
The atmosphere in the room was definitely back to normal by the time Kōki stopped talking. Akashi's eyes were the softest Kōki had ever seen them, and to his horror he realised that he was actually… finding the expression quite attractive and he couldn't help running last night's kiss through his mind.
Which was entirely ridiculous, because he very certainly was not gay.
"Will your old teammates be going as well?" Akashi asked.
"Seirin? Yes. Quite a few others too. I know Kasamatsu-senpai is coming for sure. And a few from Seiho. You can come too, if you want to see everyone. I can always talk to Kuroko, or you could." Akashi had a slightly pained expression at this point. "I-I mean… if you have the time. You must be very busy." He paused, and when Akashi didn't respond ducked his head down slightly. "I'm sorry, Akashi-san. I've been talking a lot."
"I am quite busy," he said. Kōki nodded, unable to look at him. "And I doubt they would like to see me."
"Why not?" Kōki said. Apparently, once he started talking in front of Akashi, he couldn't easily stop. "I know that I'm always pleased to see Hyuga-senpai, but I'm sure you were a better captain, even though Hyuga-senpai was very good. You were the Captain of the Generation of Miracles, after all, and Rakuzan, even though you were a first year, and the loss certainly wasn't your fault–" he broke off when Akashi flinched. "I'm sorry!" he cried. "I didn't mean… Rakuzan won the other two times, after all." Stop talking, Kōki, you idiot. He stopped uncertainly. "I'm sorry," he repeated.
"You should stop apologising, Kōki," Akashi said. Kōki looked up to see that he was smiling slightly, though there was still something quite hard in his eyes.
"I'm sorry," he said automatically, before clapping a hand to his mouth.
Akashi chuckled and reached out, before Kōki realised what he was doing, and took the hand in his, pulling it gently, but insistently down, letting his fingers brush over Kōki's lips. "Wh-what do I know anyway?" he said, trying to ignore that Akashi was still holding his hand, brushing his thumb over his wrist. "I wasn't even a starter until my second year, and even then it was only when Izuki-senpai was injured."
He jumped when Akashi pressed his thumb to Kōki's pulse on his wrist and half expected a knife to be stabbed into his arm. "But you were made captain in your third year."
Kōki didn't respond for a moment and Akashi's hand slipped off his. The loss of warmth was enough to make him jump again and he pulled his hand back. "Yeah, but being captain doesn't necessarily mean that you're the best." He realised what he'd said and froze. "I-I didn't mean you, Akashi-san! You were the best in Rakuzan, definitely." He didn't know whether to feel relieved or more scared when Akashi chuckled. It wasn't as manic as he'd heard it before, but Kōki couldn't decipher his expression.
"I really don't think it would be a good idea for me to come."
His voice was the bleakest that Kōki had ever heard, and even through his fear (which strangely had subsided slightly; Akashi was definitely showing a softer side of himself which was putting Kōki at ease), he felt sorry for Akashi. He seemed almost lost, and Kōki felt helpless. He bit his lip and resisted the urge to take his hand. Even if Akashi was perfectly comfortable doing that to him, Kōki didn't really want to know what would happen if he initiated the contact. "You're sure?"
He was a bit worried that Akashi would take his words as being impudent, but Akashi only nodded, before asking about Himuro and Kise.
"It's just a hunch. But I don't really tend to be very involved in the group; I've always preferred watching. It's not like I'm anywhere near as interesting as the others." He gave a short laugh. "But Himuro-senpai always lights up when Kise-kun is around. They play one-on-one sometimes. I don't think Kise-kun has noticed anything though."
The evening had been strangely… pleasant. And when it drew to a close, Kōki was feeling a lot more comfortable. Maybe seeing the unexpected weakness Akashi had displayed helped. He walked Akashi to the door (a lot more steady than he had been before). But of course, he wasn't prepared for when Akashi kissed him.
It was only for a couple of seconds, but heat rushed to Kōki's face and he froze (although he was tempted to press harder into him, to tangle his hands in the hair that looked so soft). But Akashi pulled away quickly, turning his face away, thanked him quietly and left.