CHAPTER I.
""Blistered be thy tongue for such a wish! He was not born to shame! Upon his brow shame is ashamed to sit, for 'tis a throne where honor may be crowned!"
Akashi Seijūrō watched as Juliet scolded her maid and defended the honor of her beloved Romeo. Seated comfortably in the front rows of Rakuzan High's auditorium, he witnessed Shakespeare's tragic love story as reenacted by the members of their school's highly esteemed theatre club. Beside him was Mibuchi Reo, one of the 'Uncrowned Generals', who was responsible for dragging him here in the first place.
"So what do you think of them, Sei-chan?" the ravenhaired shooting guard asked as the stage dimmed in preparation for the next scene. He was looking expectantly at Akashi's passive face, where a small smile bloomed on his lips as the emperor considered his question.
"They are indeed very talented in their craft. I assume as much, this is Rakuzan after all, but to be honest, they are above what I imagined. Well, some of them."
Mibuchi smiled. "So Sei-chan is impressed?"
"I am." Akashi replied. He didn't elaborate as the next scene came and he turned his attention back to the stage, as did his companion.
Indeed, the whole production is a sight to behold — one might not actually believe that it was carried out by mere high school students. Everything was meticulously done: from the backdrops to the props up to the costumes. Even the characters themselves were perfectly fitted to their role.
Especially Juliet.
Throughout the whole play, Akashi had realized that his eyes had been unconsciously focusing on the girl playing the part of the heroine. He had to admit, she was really very good at acting. Her English was almost perfect too. Her face and her voice are very expressive of her character's feelings that one can just close their eyes and listen to her words and they'll be able to understand the emotions behind them perfectly.
As the actors lined onstage to give thanks to their audience — a full house, by the way — Akashi automatically sought out Juliet. It turns out that her hair was a wig, because in place of Juliet's brown tresses earlier was a waterfall of honey blonde locks that reached well beyond her waist. Her bright green eyes swept the crowd in an appreciative manner as she curtsied to those who came to watch their performance. Her eyes met his, and a small impish smirk crept on her coral lips for a split second.
Akashi was amused.
Interesting.
• •
• •
"Sei-chan!" Mibuchi called out to their redhaired captain just as he dismissed the club after practice. Slowly, said captain stopped and turned with measured grace and answered the bruenette in his usual calm demeanor.
"Yes, Reo."
"I just heard that the theatre club will be presenting something next Friday. Would you like to come?"
Lately, Mibuchi had been asking for his company to see such plays. Apparently, it was drama that caught the Yaksha's interest this year. During Akashi's first year, Mibuchi had been enraptured by the romanticity of poetry, and had read them eagerly. He had also discussed some with Akashi, being the only one in their team who can actually relate to his interest. Nebuya Eikichi cares for nothing but food, Hayama Kotaro just simply detests the mere task of reading books, while Mayuzumi Chihiro, though he is quite a reader, sticks mostly to light novels and other common forms of prose. Akashi, on the other hand, knows a good deal about poetry and the poets themselves, and had even lent Mibuchi a few books on the subject. Somehow, Mibuchi felt like sharing his interests with their captain, as he finds the redhead's company quite pleasurable despite what other's think. And most especially, he finds Akashi's take and interpretation of the poems as very intellectual and very interesting.
Akashi knows this, and he is somehow pleased by this fact. Mibuchi is a well-meaning person, sincere, and caring. Out of his teammates, it is him whom he gets along with the most. After their loss during last year's Winter Cup, the real Akashi Seijūrō had finally awakened, and he had been able to connect with his team better. In fact, it was just like in Teiko before they 'awakened', if not even better. The Uncrowned Generals had their own charm unique from that of the Kiseki no Sedai, yet equally as welcome to the little emperor. It was nice having that kind of camaraderie and trust on and off the court, although it does not change the fact that they are still fearful of him. Not in a bad way, though. Fearful in a way that they totally respect him to the point of revering him, but not too much that there will be a gap between them. But they are certainly friends.
He gave Mibuchi a look that tells him to elaborate about the said play. One thing that he really appreciates about this person is his ability to perfectly comprehend Akashi's meaningful gazes, thus allowing them to converse in complete silence.
"It's gonna be a historical one — back in the feudal era, I suppose. The members are having lessons from the kendo club, and they are borrowing members also as stuntmen. With all this preparation, I am really thrilled to watch their presentation. This must be something big, seeing that it is a day before Kyoto's festival."
Akashi ran next week's schedule in his head. Aside from the required weekly student council meeting on Wednesday afternoons and the few social gatherings as ordered by his father, there was nothing for him to do on Friday afternoon. Maybe he can indulge himself this time.
"I am free this coming Friday's afternoon. I'll go with you then."
And maybe he'll see her again.
• •
• •
He saw her earlier though. Akashi was passing by the kendo club's training room on his way back from the dean's office for a sudden meeting when the door opened and a certain blonde stepped out, clad in white gi and black hakama, a wooden sword hanging from her right hip. Her long hair was tied high up in a messy ponytail. She was covered in sweat, her cheeks flushed in pink, her breathing a bit labored. The moment she looked up, her gaze met Akashi's.
"Fancy meeting you here, Akashi-san."
Akashi stopped walking to return her greeting. "Good afternoon, Shiori." If the girl heard him calling her by her given name despite the fact that they were basically strangers to each other, she did not show any reaction. Akashi noted her messy state. "You've been preparing hard for next week's performance."
By an unspoken command, the two fell in step as they headed back to Rakuzan's West Building where the second year classrooms are. "Ah, so you noticed." She replied thoughtfully, looking down on her attire. "I seem to tire very easily. I've been in there for an hour doing nothing but swing this sword and roll all over the place, and I already look like I've run a marathon." She took a sip from her water bottle.
"You played Juliet perfectly well." Akashi commented, waiting for her reaction on his sincere praise.
"Is that a compliment I hear from the great Akashi-sama?" She asked in a singsong voice. When he did not reply, she continued, "I saw you at the audience. I was surprised to see you there to be honest."
She was not mocking him, Akashi knew that. After all, Akashi seemed just the type to appreciate plays only if he is in Broadway.
"I didn't go there of my own volition, though. One of my teammates invited me. He was most passionate about it."
A smug smirk graced the girl's delicate features. "I figured as much. Reo-nee, isn't it? He's been pestering me as of late. He's a fine person, though. Pity — he could've been captivating on stage as he is on the court, but though he loves my art, he is just too loyal to his beloved 'Sei-chan' to be taken by my charms."
"I cannot have such a valuable teammate as Reo to be prancing about on the stage instead of shooting three's on court." Akashi countered, tone light as he humored the girl.
"Of course," she said nonchalantly, waving her hand in front of her as if to dismiss her words earlier. That single movement, Akashi saw, was perfectly graceful, effortless in its flawlessness, like one who lived their lives fully aware of the eyes on their person. It was an action meant to caught the eye, to attract, to seduce, to garner attention. It was not deliberate, per se, but instilled and done unconsciously. She continued in her melodious voice, "I don't like taking other people's property, though, as I'm pretty much territorial about mine. Not that you would let Reo-nee go away easily now, would you? But even then, his heart belongs to you and only you, and nothing I do or say can change that."
"Indeed." Akashi agreed wholeheartedly.
"I assume he has already invited you to our play next week. He's been digging around our club for the details."
"Yes, he did. I don't have anything to do for that day, and after seeing your previous number, I won't mind spending my time in another refreshing venture."
She seemed to be satisfied with his answer as she did not speak further. The rest of the journey was walked in comfortable silence.
• •
• •
Kyoto in May is stiflingly hot and suffocatingly humid. Akashi preferred April better — not too warm, not too cold — just the right temperature, with the occasional spring showers that always soothes and invigorates the little emperor's senses.
But inside this grand hall, the weather outside does not really matter. Everything here was controlled to provide the most comfortable atmosphere to its guests — from the proper amount of lighting down to the coldness of the air conditioner. And it is here where Akashi finds himself the night before the day of the play.
The grand heir, dressed sharply in a black suit and tie, weaved gracefully through the crowd of Japan's wealthiest citizens, greeting personally a few choice persons whose acquaintance and sociopolitical standing will benefit the redhead in his future career. He shook hands, exchanged nods, and gave polite smiles to the créme de la créme of the business world. He does not like it one bit — he absolutely abhors it — but it needs to be done; business is business after all, and after everything has been said and done, this is the world where Akashi moves and lives and breathes.
Business, in all its grandeur and promise of riches, is all about manipulating people to exploit them and use them for one's own ends, Akashi thought bitterly as he sat on his table far from the gossipping women and scheming men. He sipped on his Earl Grey tea contentedly, having finished his introductions and was now only waiting for dinner to be served.
The servers came not long after, in their white and navy blue uniforms, pushing carts containing the most delicious food that a prime chef can cook. Akashi's father joined him at his table then, whom he greeted with a polite "Good evening, Father." The senior Akashi returned it to his son, equally polite and equally as cold. If not for their names, one would say that they are merely business partners instead of a father and a son relationship.
Midway into the meal, a commotion erupted from the table on Akashi's far left. It was two tables away, yet Akashi can perfectly hear what was being said by the involved parties to one another.
"You tramp—! How dare you—!" A shrill voice shrieked in fury. Akashi fought the urge to roll his eyes. How disgraceful. Surely one of the waitresses must have done some mistake, and was now being grilled by the wronged person — in the form of a young girl who had been forced to attend this formal dinner in hopes of attracting a formidable suitor to save their probably crumbling company.
However, Akashi did not expected to hear her voice in a place like this. As slowly as he could — so as not to raise the suspicion of the man eating across him on tha table — he turned his head to look and confirm what his ears had just told him.
"Oh, I apologize for the blunder, Ojou-sama. I was too blinded by the huge diamond on your neck that my hand slipped."
There, beside the table of the rich ladies and gentlemen, stood no other than Takumi Shiori, dressed in servant's clothing, her hair flowing freely down her back, chin held high in defiance, and an amused glint in her bewitching emerald eyes.
She did not flinch when the other girl — a bruenette — rose from her seat abruptly, giving Akashi a good view of her wine-drenched figure. Her eyes flashed in anger that was directed at the chartreusette, who looked like she had no care at all with the world.
The people around them were shocked, gaping at the two. Whispers came round, as the women glanced at one another, gazes pointing as recognition dawned on them.
"Wasn't that Tomoko-san's real daughter?"
"I thought she was abroad?"
"What is she doing dressed like that?"
The noise they made just served to irritate the brunette even more. She raised a hand to hit Shiori but the blonde caught the offending hand as one would catch a fragile piece of glassware. Her slim pale fingers wrapped themselves slowly around the brunette's cloth-covered wrist, like a snake choking its prey.
"Ojou-sama is not seriously thinking of touching me, is she? I'm afraid what might happen if you were to touch my bare skin. Please, do not harm yourself any further, Ojou-sama." Her words were polite, yet they held a double meaning. And there was that disgusted smile on her lips.
"You bitch! Look at what you did to me! I'm completely soaked! What do you think you're gonna do about this?" She screamed furiously.
"I can lend you my clothes — they're cleaner and much more decent than the ones you are in. But they won't suit you, I'm sure. I can help you clean yourself in the powder room, though."
"You insolent —!"
Another woman— the girl's mother — joined in. Her face was drawn pale, horrified and angry at her daughter's display of attitude. She gave Shiori a cold glare and in a tight voice, said, "I'll take my daughter there. She doesn't need assistance from someone of your standing."
This time, Shiori let out an actual chuckle — more like a dry 'Heh'— fall from her pink lips. She released her hold on the daughter's wrist and took a step away to give the two women space. "Of course, I'm absolutely miles away from where you are standing. I won't dream of having one of your kind to be in the same league as me. That would be nearly impossible." The two women's faces blushed red in realization of the ominous message she was telling them. Shiori seemed to have caught on, as she gracefully took a bow to everyone in attention, and said, "I've overstayed my welcome. I'm sorry for putting a blemish on your splendid party. Please return to your meals. Sorry for the distasteful display. Have a nice evening, masters."
She turned on her heel, like a ballerina doing a pirouette, and headed for the kitchens. Her pace was neither hurried nor too slow, and she seemed to glide on the hall's brightly polished floors. Akashi was thinking that out of all the females that graced the whole room, no one could match the gracefulness of her movement. She was more of a lady than all the others combined.
As Akashi continued with his meal, talking now and then with his father, his mind keeps wandering to the blonde girl.
Takumi Shiori.
Formerly Tomoko Shiori.
She really is a very interesting individual.