A/N: I apologize in advance for the many time skips in this chapter. The timeline and events follow the anime/manga, except that there is no phantom sixth man in the GoM. According to the schedule in their website, Inter-high is around the end of July or August (around summer break) and Winter cup is at the end of December (around winter break). Their new academic year starts on April. Also, the misspelled and grammatically incorrect words in Kana's dialogues are intentional.

Many thanks to AokazuSei for the beta.

Part 3: Lost Days

It was late autumn during Seijūrō's second year of middle school when Tetsuya first noticed the changes. It started when Seijūrō's nightly visits became later in the evening, and their weekend meetings became shorter. At first, Tetsuya didn't pay much attention to it. But when Seijūrō failed to visit him one night, Tetsuya felt that something was very off. It was also the first time that Seijūrō missed two turns in their shogi match.

When Seijūrō came back, the news he brought with him was rather disconcerting: Aomine no longer attended basketball practice, Murasakibara was unmotivated with the game, and Kise had lost his passion to play. But Tetsuya felt that there was something else that Seijūrō was hiding. He rationalized that internal club problems wouldn't have kept Seijūrō up late at night. There was something else that was bothering Seijūrō, and Tetsuya felt so powerless that he couldn't even ask the boy what it was.

Then one night, without warning, Seijūrō snapped.

First, he accused Tetsuya of being a fraud. Then, he cursed at him of being worthless. And lastly, he blamed him for his mother's illness; he even ordered him to cure his mother at once. After that, he broke down. It was the first time in their five years together that Tetsuya saw Seijūrō's tears.

After the night of Seijūrō's outburst, the boy didn't visit him for a week.

Tetsuya didn't know what brought that on. Something must have happened to the boy for him to uncharacteristically lash out at him like that. But Seijūrō's accusations hit him like a fisherman's harpoon because they were nothing less than true.

He was no wish-granting fish, just an ordinary fish. That talk about wish-granting was something that humans made up for themselves, and Seijūrō was a fool for believing their tales.

He wanted to blame Seijūrō for his own misfortune, but the guilt he felt was more overwhelming. He believed that he had played a part on causing the boy much pain; false hopes often end up causing great grievances. He had wanted to tell the boy that he did not know how to grant wishes, and it frustrated him to no end that he couldn't even do that. It was unfair how humans could tell him anything they wanted and selfishly make demands, while he, as a fish, couldn't do the same. Still, he wanted to apologize to the boy for tricking him, even if it was the boy who tricked himself. The knowledge that the boy might still be hoping for a miracle from him continued to eat Tetsuya's nights.

...

When Seijūrō came back, his left eye had changed. It was no longer the warm red that Tetsuya knew, but in its place was the cold gleam of hard gold. And with that change also came a drastic transformation of his personality, and this new Seijūrō's presence chilled him to the bone.

"Tetsuya," he said. "Father ordered me to study in Kyōto for High School. I am going to bring you with me. You are mine, and I do not want anyone else to handle what is mine." Then he left. That made it the 15th time that Seijūrō missed their shogi match.

Tetsuya was suddenly afraid of the stranger that was using Seijūrō's body. He wanted to run, hide, have nothing to do with that stranger, and pretend that everything was fine. He wanted to come back the next day and find that a shogi tile had been moved, to find Seijūrō talking to him later that night. But when the next day came, the tiles were untouched.

It made Tetsuya realize that more than his fear of the new Seijūrō, his desire to smack some sense back into the boy was greater. But he had no idea what was to be done; how could a fish even talk some sense into a human? In his frustration, he scattered the pieces of their current shogi game. But when he reached the king, he paused. That piece was like Seijūrō. Everything he loved, from the mundane discussions to their pointless games to the beautiful world outside his pond that he could only imagine through Seijūrō's words, all would be lost if Seijūrō was gone. He suddenly lost heart to push out both kings from the board, so he left the two pieces untouched.

Perhaps something stirred inside Seijūrō when he saw the two kings amidst the scattered tiles because when Tetsuya came back, a new game was set up: a bishop and rook handicap game on Seijūrō's part. Hope rekindled inside the fish that maybe the old Seijūrō might still be there. He wanted to draw the old Seijūrō through their game; if there was some way he could get through Seijūrō, then it would only be through shogi.

But that hope was quickly snuffed out when the game ended with his crushing defeat so early into the game. Even Seijūrō's playing style changed. He no longer played a teaching game where he would poke, prod, and guide Tetsuya's moves; instead, he was only concerned with obtaining the swiftest and most absolute victory. That game was no longer a game but a show of power, and Tetsuya saw the gaping difference in theirs. Seeing that Tetsuya was a flounder, Seijūrō would be a great shark. He should have been disheartened, but instead, his wounded pride fueled his spirit, and he made a promise to beat Seijūrō someday.

Those days were the longest for Tetsuya. Seijūrō visited less often and talked even less; most of the time, he would just stare at nowhere in particular with a pensive look on his face. But despite that, Seijūrō never missed a move at shogi. Tetsuya became so immersed with their matches that he didn't notice the passing of seasons. He spent the entire year trying to beat the boy, but he never got any closer. He only felt that Seijūrō was drifting farther and farther away from him. Tetsuya realized that promises were a lot easier said than done.

...

That year, Seijūrō's friends only visited him once. It was during the Akashi's New Year celebration: a grand celebration that the head family of the Akashi family hosted every year where relatives and close friends were invited. The Generation of Miracles, or so they called themselves, were also invited by Seijūrō.

That night, even if all of the people that Tetsuya was fond of were inside the same gazebo, it only felt like an illusion of the long lost days that he yearned to return to. They all changed.

Aomine ignored him, Kise avoided the others despite his endless chatter, and Murasakibara would just brush him off, following Seijūrō like his shadow. There was a heavy sense of regret and weariness Tetsuya could feel pouring out in waves from Murasakibara's slumped form; something bad must have happened between Seijūrō and the purple-haired boy. Only Satsuki and Midorima did not change. But Satsuki wore a permanent frown for the whole night as she fretted over Aomine and the others, while Midorima only isolated himself further from the group.

The most notable change was in Seijūrō. He commanded the attention of every person in that group and demanded absolute subservience from them. Tetsuya took notice that the boy started using their given names: Ryōta, Daiki, Momoi, Shintarō, and Atsushi. He knew that the act of using one's given name was supposed to be a gesture of fondness, familiarity, and comfort, but the way Seijūrō addressed them was but another reminder of their gaping difference, of power, or of strength, Tetsuya didn't fully understood.

It was also that night that the Generation of Miracles made an oath:

"We will go to different high schools and join their respective basketball club. Then we will eliminate all the other players that stand in our way in order to show that the reign of the Generation of Miracles is supreme. Only then will we be able to go against each other with our real strength. May the strongest player win."

After that, Tetsuya was filled with despair, and left them.

. ...

Just when he thought that all hope was lost, the most unlikely person among Seijūrō's friends approached him: Midorima Shintarō.

He called hum out from a secluded spot close to the edge of the pond, a place where he knew Tetsuya was hiding nearby. When Tetsuya left earlier, the boy's gaze followed him until he lost the fish in that direction.

"Kuroko," he said, "It feels stupid talking to a fish, so you better listen." And so Tetsuya listened.

"Akashi has changed. The others have changed too, but that's their own problem. However, Akashi's case is different. There's actually two of them in one person, and each has his own personality. During his match with Murasakibara, the ability he calls 'Emperor Eye' activated. When it did, his other and more extreme personality took over."

Tetsuya also thought that the new Seijūrō was harsher, colder, and less forgiving.

"I don't think that his match with Murasakibara was the only cause for his change. My father works at the hospital where Akashi's mother is admitted. He told me that he's worried about him, and remembered that I'm his classmate and teammate." The green-haired boy shifted his glasses, a gesture Tetsuya learned was his way of showing discomfort. "Do you know what comatose is? Wait, never mind, that was a stupid question. Of course a fish wouldn't know."

If Tetsuya were human, he would've already told the boy to get on with his point; the boy was only trying to delay what he was hesitant to reveal. But Midorima was someone who rarely sought him out, and he felt that the boy was reluctant because it was a matter of great importance. So he waited for the boy to order his thoughts.

"Seijūrō's mother has been in coma since 12 years ago," he continued. "That's a very long time to be spent in that state. My father told me that Akashi's father decided to stop her treatment. When Akashi learned about it, he threatened his father that he would gouge out his eyes if her treatment were to be stopped. His father had no choice but to concede."

"Akashi either didn't believe his father, or in his panic, he became paranoid. He would visit his mother every day and stay with her until visiting hours were over. My father accompanied him at times when he was not busy. He thinks that Akashi's partly afraid that his father might try to do something behind his back, and is most likely afraid of losing his mother. And he's right; I saw his exhaustion during our club practices back then. The others didn't notice it, but because of what my father told me, I began to notice the signs."

"Then, before his duel with Murasakibara, his father ordered him to study in Kyōto. He told us that he was going to Rakuzan High. I heard from my father that Akashi asked him about the medical facilities in Kyōto. He's probably trying to get his mother transferred with him to Kyōto. But Akashi must have failed to persuade his father, because when I asked my father, he told me that he was sure that Mrs. Akashi is going to be staying in their hospital indefinitely."

"I think that his personal problems combined with the rising tension in the club made Akashi snap. Murasakibara's challenge was the last straw."

Then the boy paused, and turned to look around him to see if there was anyone nearby. And then he turned to look at the gazebo and was relieved to find that everyone in his group was still there. Then he turned back to the fish, and in a hushed voice he said, "Akashi's other personality is more extreme. It's his father's 'perfect vision' for his son. Starting from a young age, his father has already been training him and preparing him to inherit his business. This new Akashi is his dreams come true."

"But as a... as a friend..." he paused, now shifting his glasses, "A-anyway, as a concerned teammate and classmate, I want to bring back the real Akashi." Then he stopped shifting his glasses, and as he turned to him, his face hardened with resolve. "Next year, I will beat him, and I will show him the meaning of defeat. I feel that the only way I could do it, and the only way I could get through him, is through my basketball."

"Akashi once told us that you can grant wishes. I won't wish that you'd grant me victory; that would defeat the purpose. I want to defeat him with my own strength. But if there is one that I want to make, I want you to bring him back."

At those words, Tetsuya's little heart tightened. The thought that Midorima was another boy that he would be deceiving filled him with sorrow.

"Akashi told me that he will be bringing you with him to Kyōto. He is still attached with you. I'll watch over Mrs. Akashi, so," he paused, "please take care of Akashi for us." Midorima said the last part with haste, and he quickly left the area slightly flustered.

Tetsuya felt that this conversation was very hard for the boy, and he admired him for his courage. He was relieved that Seijūrō still had good friends despite everything that had happened. The weight he thought he was carrying alone seemed to lighten. Fireworks soon lit up the sky in celebration of the coming year, yet even though it was the same, they looked brighter than the previous years.

Seijūrō's friends didn't visit him again. Spring came, and so did the day of their move to Kyōto, but instead of grief, Tetsuya felt his strength renewed. Midorima's words filled him with hope. He felt that he could take on Seijūrō once more.

...

Tetsuya's new home in Kyōto was larger and far more beautiful than his previous home. The fish had new koi carps and goldfishes as his new neighbors and a few local frogs as frequent visitors. There was also a wide array of flowers and trees dotted along the banks which bore red, purple, and pink flowers; he later learned that their names: from carmellias, shrub peonies, and blossoms from cherry trees to the lone wisteria tree on the pond's inlet. Tetsuya thought that it was unlike him to appreciate the scenery, but they reminded him of Seijūrō's odd-hair-colored friends that they had left back in Tōkyō. A sudden pang of longing hit his tiny chest; it was only his first day in his new home, and he was already missing them.

He was glad that Kana went with them; she was a familiar and comforting presence for Tetsuya, especially now that Seijūrō was changed. There were two other servants that lived with them, but they were all new faces to the fish. The first one was an old gardener who would come in the early hours of the morning and would greet Tetsuya with a loud and cheerful 'Good mornin', fish!', before leaving at dusk with another cheerful 'Have a good evenin', fish!' Tetsuya could hear him humming and whispering random gossip to the plants every time he took care of those near the pond.

The second one was the house keeper; a lady older than Kana who was said to have served the Akashi even since Mr. Masaomi was just a teen. She was stiff woman who would have nothing to do with him or the other fishes unless it was to feed them on the gardener's day off. Still, no one treated him like the intelligent fish he was that Seijūrō was so proud of.

Ever since they moved to Kyōto, Kana started reminiscing of past days when she once served lady Shiori in that very same house. Sometimes, she would take a long walk in the garden with a wistful look on her face during late afternoons while waiting for the young master to arrive from school. Other times, she would tell stories to the fishes in the pond.

"This garden was the lady's favorite, you know?" said she. Her accent had grown thick ever since they arrived at Kyōto, but Tetsuya found that it sounded more natural on her. "She's gotten into a bit of gardenin' ever since she took those fancy classes about tea and flowers. She picked the flowers in this garden herself, and ol' Mr. Hayato was our gardener back then, still is now. I fancy that he's got a couple of stories to tell. He's pretty fond of her. 'She's like mah daughter,' says he. Now, his daughter is gone," She smiled sadly.

"But I heard she was a real beauty in these parts. The Lady Shiori is a real beauty, with her eyes like rubies and all; the prettiest woman I know. And she's the goodest soul, bless her! It's a good thing that the young master took after her, not that Mr. Akashi's not real handsome, he is mind you. But, he could be too stiff. I still don't approve of what he did to the young master, and what he almost did to the lady. He's a lonely man, and I pity him; anyone would be if his wife's a sleepin' for years and years. I couldn't blame him for wanting to move on and all, and even to another woman, but to abandon Lady Shiori when she's still fightin' for her dear life- it makes no sense!" she cried indignantly. "Ah, but enough of that, it only makes me mad. It's good that they broke up, for the young master's sake."

Tetsuya didn't fully understand about the workings of human societies, but he at least knew that most humans were monogamous, and as such, he understood Kana's anger.

"But where was I? Dear me, I keep on jumpin' all over the place, and now I'm lost! Ah right, the Lady Shiori. She picked the flowers in this garden," she said again. She had the tendency to prattle and recount things over once or thrice, if you didn't stop her, which the fish unfortunately couldn't, so he was given a second account about the lady's beauty and dignified manner in more exaggerated words.

"Her favorite are the spider lilies, like her eyes I say, but rubies are a better fit. But they don't grow now; they grow on autumn. She loves the wisteria in spring! That's why Mr. Akashi ordered to have one specially grown over there. She also loved to have picnics with us under that tree. She loves tofu dishes; the young master picked that up from her. Ah, but those were happy times."

"I dunno why Mr. Akashi chose me, a simple lass from Fukui, but I am glad he did. The lady was really showing when I arrived. The young master was quite the kicker when he was in her stomach. The dear boy," she sighed, "He used to deal with much mischief, one time putting bugs on my pocket, and another making planes out of Mr. Akashi's papers, and even plucking Lady Shiori's flowers, but that all changed when the lady's gotten into that accident. Poor lad, poor lad," she shook her head, and sighed again, a long drawn one filled with weariness. Then she got up, dusted off her plain kimono, and went off to prepare dinner.

Time and again, Kana would recount old stories from the past, some new while most just revamped versions of stories once told. It proved a good distraction for Tetsuya when he was not thinking of shogi, and he also liked Kana's stories, especially when it was about Seijūrō's childhood. In time, Tetsuya would also notice how the gardener would drop wistful remarks to the flowers every now and then of how 'The lady would've like to see this,' or 'This was one of the lady's favorite'.

It was through their stories that gave Tetsuya an idea on how he might melt Seijūrō's icy demeanor. One fine morning, he gathered the blossoms that fell on the pond and pushed them on the edge nearest to the shogi board. He hoped that, just like how the flowers reminded him of his friends, it would remind Seijūrō of his mother who dearly loved those flowers.

But it turned out that the task was more complicated than he imagined. The gardener was a very meticulous man despite his age, and his pile of blossoms was cleaned out before Seijūrō could see them. So day after day, the fish would repeat the process of gathering different flowers and different combinations. Day after day, it would either get cleared by the gardener, or get ignored by Seijūrō. Until one day, Seijūrō said, "Tetsuya, if you find the pond dirty, I can ask the servants to clean it for you." After Seijūrō said that, Tetsuya stopped gathering flowers.

Days passed; the cherry trees stopped blossoming, and spring gave way to summer. The water in his pond grew warmer, and the flowers Tetsuya once knew faded with the spring. In their place bloomed another kind, blossoming in pink, blue, purple, white, and yellow. Seijūrō's club activities also grew heavier because of the upcoming Inter-High tournament. Tetsuya became lonelier.

It was the season when he first met Seijūrō's friends three summers ago, and because of that, summers had a special place in his tiny heart. He secretly hoped that Seijūrō's friends would visit, even if it was mere wishful thinking on his part. He didn't know how far away Tōkyō was, but he knew it was a distance that slow human feet couldn't hope to travel for a day, or week. He wished that he could swim to Tōkyō, but the reaches of his pond was far too short. So he contented himself with gathering things that reminded him of them, mostly flowers and beautiful stones. They were nothing compared to the real thing, but at least they comforted him, especially the thing he dubbed as "Midorima's leaf".

Then one day, a chance came. Kana told him that Seijūrō's team was going to compete in Tōkyō, and she secretly confided to them that she was worried because it will be the first time for Seijūrō to travel so far without a chaperon. The fish didn't know how basketball matches work, or why Seijūrō had to travel far just to play, but he knew that this might be his chance to get through him.

That night, he waited by the shogi board for Seijūrō to make his move. When the boy arrived, he placed a lotus leaf near Seijūrō. "Midorima's leaf," he had called it. It caught Seijūrō's attention, and Tetsuya inwardly cheered at his success. He went back to his hiding place and brought back his other special things one by one: A blue hydrangea, "Aomine's flower"; a pink lotus flower, "Satsuki's flower"; a yellow freesia, "Kise's flower"; and a purple iris, "Murasakibara's flower". Lastly, he took Seijūrō's king tile and placed it among them. The boy stared and studied the things Tetsuya brought.

"I can think of only one group of people who sports such ridiculous colors," he said. "You miss them. Strange, I didn't even think that fishes were capable of such sentiments; but you have always been an exception and beyond expectation. I dare say that you think more like a human than a fish." Then, Tetsuya witnessed a sight he hadn't seen in since two years ago.

Seijūrō smiled.

It was small, but it was there nonetheless. "You'll see them soon. I shall invite them over the spring break after I show them that I am the strongest, that I am absolute. Rakuzan shall reign supreme this Winter Cup." With that, the boy left. Tetsuya didn't know whether to feel relieved or dread over Seijūrō's declaration.

...

It was four days before Seijūrō was leaving for Tōkyō that an unexpected visitor arrived. Kise Ryōta, who worked part time as a model, was in Kyōto as a replacement model for a male's yukata photo shoot. When Tetsuya saw him again, he noticed immediately that this Kise Ryōta had slightly changed; there was a little shine in his eyes that wasn't there before.

"Kurokocchi, did you miss me? Akashicchi told me to wait for him here," said Kise. "It looks like he's really busy. I guess I'll have to practice double once I get back home, or I won't beat Akashicchi at this rate. So, how have you been?"

Tetsuya was very excited. He swam to the surface and made a loud splash.

Kise laughed. "Looks like you're doing well." Then Kise spied Tetsuya's shogi board and picked up a piece. "You guys are still at it? So have you beaten Akashicchi yet? No?" Kise chuckled. "I'm not surprised. Akashicchi is on a different league of his own."

Then, Kise grew pensive. "You know, I finally experienced my first defeat in basketball. That guy, Kagamicchi, I feel that he's the same as us. He reminds me of Aominecchi before he discovered his talent." Then he smiled. "I remember you like Aominecchi, right? I think, if you meet Kagamicchi, you'll like him too."

It was then that Kana came and announced that the young master had just returned from school before leaving.

"It's already past six, and on a summer break. Does Akashicchi always return so late? You must have been lonely, Kurokocchi. Wanna live at my place instead?"

Tetsuya wanted to say yes. "Kise-kun lives in Tōkyō, and everyone else is there. I want to see them," he thought. But, he didn't want to leave Seijūrō alone, so he decided that Seijūrō should join them too, even if he was scared of the current Seijūrō.

Then, with an impeccable timing, Seijūrō arrived. "I apologize that I have kept you waiting."

"No problem, Akashicchi," answered Kise.

"Also, you can't have Tetsuya," said Seijūrō, and his lips quirked a minuscule upward. "He won't appreciate your little fish tanks."

"I was just kidding! So mean, Akashicchi."

"Why are you here, Ryōta?" asked Seijūrō.

"I was in the neighborhood, so I figured that I should warn you ahead."

At this, Seijūrō raised a single brow. "Warn me, you say?"

"There's a new team rising, and it's a real threat," answered Kise, now serious. "It's Seirin. You should watch out for that team, especially their power forward, number 10, Kagami Taiga."

"You overestimate them," said Seijūrō plainly.

"You shouldn't underestimate them. Kagamicchi is like us. More specifically, he's like Aomine. And he's got an ability that could match ours: Air Walk. He even defeated Midorimacchi during the preliminaries."

Seijūrō's eyes widened a fraction, but it was not noticeable to those who weren't as observant as Tetsuya. "Shintarō lost?" he frowned and was clearly displeased. "I thank you for taking your time to warn me, but it's all pointless. I am absolute, and no upstart can defy me. My victory is assured."

Kise sighed. "Well, I better get going. I only came here for that, and to see Kurokocchi. I have to catch the first train tomorrow or Kasamatsu-senpai will kill me if I'm late. He didn't like that I suddenly took two days off for the shoot."

"The next time we'll meet will be on Winter Cup," said Seijūrō.

"Yeah. I won't lose, even if it's against you, Akashicchi." With that, Kise got up and left. Tetsuya would not be seeing Kise, or any other of Seijūrō's friends from Teikō, for the rest of the year.

...

When Tetsuya heard that Midorima lost, he was suddenly filled with dread. If Midorima was defeated, then he wouldn't be able to change back Seijūrō. A sense of urgency filled him that he had to find a way to bring back Seijūrō, even if he had to do it alone.

A week passed, and Seijūrō still remained unchanged after he got back from Tōkyō. Tetsuya was slowly becoming more desperate.

...

The days were ending sooner once again. Frigid breezes drove away the warmth of Summer, the star-pointed maple leaves turned red, and the spider lilies that Mrs. Akashi loved bloomed. It was the season that reminded Tetsuya so much of Seijūrō: the only human who truly understood him. He still had not found a way to change Seijūrō back, but if experiencing defeat was what changed Kise, he thought that perhaps he could beat Seijūrō at something. The only thing he could think of was their shogi matches, and his promise to beat him.

Game after game, he experienced a crushing defeat. Having never won a single game, he thought that he could bear with the loss. But, he realized that the more determined he was the more that defeat sapped his will. Hopelessness took him as he faced the fact that shogi would never be a game he could win against Seijūrō. Tetsuya then grew to hate the clacking sound of the shogi tiles.

When the last of the spider lilies started to wilt, Tetsuya became more anxious. He fervently wished for a miracle, but he didn't know what kind of miracle he wanted. He badly wanted to win against Seijūrō, but he also wanted the old Seijūrō to come back. If he wanted the old Seijūrō back, he would have to find a way to cure his mother. If only he could have granted Seijūrō's wish, none of this would happen, or so he thought.

That night, he fell into despair. He found that one of his scales fell off... and he broke. When he came to himself, he found that he had snapped one of the koi in half and had eaten the other half. But avoiding eating fish for as long as he could remember, he couldn't find himself to finish the other half. He was stricken by how easy his resolve was broken, and he felt sickened at how he was reduced to such miserable state. Then, a sudden thought came to his fey mind that Seijūrō would have been proud if he had seen it. Seijūrō was right; his words were absolute.

. ...

The next morning, when Seijūrō came to make his move for their shogi game, he found the head of the koi and a wilted spider lily blossom.

"Tetsuya!" Seijūrō snapped. "What is the meaning of this? This isn't like you at all. Stop it." Then he took a sharp breath, and let it out slowly. "Whatever you're trying to do, just stop it. Behave like a fish for once."

When he heard that, Tetsuya's world crumbled. If this was the price of attachment, then he would rather not experience it again. After that morning, Tetsuya didn't show himself to Seijūrō for the rest of autumn.

When winter came, and the last of the red leaves fell along with the last reminders of Seijūrō, Tetsuya realized that he couldn't give-up on the boy after all. So he took up shogi once more. He knew that playing shogi was far from being fish-like, but he didn't want to lose his last connection with the boy he once loved.

He was greatly surprised when he saw that the position of the tiles in the board remained the same as the day he stopped playing. And he was more surprised and mostly relieved when Seijūrō answered his move the next day. He finally decided that even if this Seijūrō was not the Seijūrō he loved, he could live with it as long as it was Seijūrō. He could learn to accept that, and perhaps even love that Seijūrō. He no longer wished to change back Seijūrō; he decided live and adapt with the changes.

…

It was shortly after they reconciled that Seijūrō had to stay for a week in Tōkyō for Winter Cup. He lost some of his scales because of his last ordeal, but when he decided to accept the new Seijūrō, he was starting to feel better. So he decided to wait patiently for Seijūrō's return, to welcome him back like the old times.

While Seijūrō was gone, he used his time to polish up his shogi. And when he got tired of the game, his thoughts would always wander back to Seijūrō and his friends in Tōkyō; he was unfortunately still unaware that Kise and Murasakibara no longer lived in Tōkyō.

Yet he would continuously wonder, would they meet there? Were they going to play together like they used to? He couldn't wait for spring to come; then he'll be able to see them again. When he would, he would have to find a way to tell Midorima that there was no need to change Seijūrō back. He also decided that, if he could accept the new Seijūrō, then he would accept the others no matter how changed they were.

The week quickly passed, and Seijūrō came back. Tetsuya rushed to the edge of the pond to welcome him, but to his surprise, Seijūrō never came out of his room.

Something was very wrong, and Tetsuya suddenly felt a pit of dread in his stomach. Various questions came into his mind: What could have happened during the Winter Cup? Did he lose? Did he not get along with his friends? Did something bad happen to his mother? Did his father do something bad?

He felt so powerless once more. He wanted to do something for Seijūrō, and reassure the boy that he would always be there for him no matter what had happened, no matter how different he became. He loved the boy. He was in the dark before Seijūrō found him and taught him that he could do things impossible. He treated him like a friend. And he showed him the world outside his pond through his stories about his day. Through Seijūrō's words, he had already stepped outside with Seijūrō. It was always Seijūrō. Now that he had seen the light, he would be blind without Seijūrō. If only he could get the boy to open up, and if only he could show the boy that he cared.

And he could. A sudden thought came to him like a winning move to a shogi match. He could give Seijūrō the only thing that was his own: his scales. Seijūrō told him once as the boy rid the barnacles from his body that his scales were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Tetsuya could only take pride about his unnatural scales because Seijūrō loved them.

. ...

The next morning, Seijūrō found, near the shogi board, a pair of the most beautiful scales he had ever seen. His eyes widened, and his golden eye flickered. Then, he rushed and waded into the pond, holding Tetsuya's sides.

"You fool," Seijūrō cried.

Seijūrō broke down and cried. It was the second time that Tetsuya had seen him cry. He felt the boy's hands tremble, and never had he seen the boy so shaken. So, he let him cry as he was held, even if Seijūrō's hands were uncomfortably warm for the fish.

When Seijūrō's tears finally stopped, he saw that his golden eye was gone. The old Seijūrō was finally back.

...

That day, the fish felt that he was the happiest fish alive. The boy and his fish spent the whole day talking. The boy talked to the fish about everything that happened. Everything since the day he started growing distant, and the fish was very glad to listen. Their talk continued until past midnight, a time that was special to both the boy and the fish. Even if the fish's scales continued to shed, that time, they had the world only to themselves.