I know it has been far too long since I updated this story and I apologize. *bows low* I have about four chapters written out and ready to edit, so you won't have to wait long for the next few updates. Thank you for your continued support of this story - Kazu.


Akashi's POV

Akira received more of a welcome at the airport than the two NBA players, Akashi thought with no little animosity, as he and Furihata claimed their luggage and waited for the Midorima family reunion and the Point Guard Poker Players to finish their small celebration.

I'm a coward, Akashi thought as he waited for his father's limo to arrive. I should have at least warned Kōki. I should be the one to tell him that I have to go on by myself, but no, I've saddled Shintarō and Kazunari with that responsibility on top of all their others.

As the limo pulled up to the curbside, Furihata's smile dropped off his face, like a glass falling off a table.

"Is that…?"

"Of course it is; don't make a scene. We knew this might happen, flow with it."

The driver took Akashi's bags, and then held the door open. Akashi slid into the backseat without a backward glance at his traveling companions - not even Kōki; he couldn't take the risk that the man in his father's employ would report back even the subtlest of signs.


When the car pulled up in front of the Akashi family compound, there was a host of paparazzi at the entrance, all of whom swung their lenses in his direction as he exited the car. The flashing lights and hurled questions weren't as aggressive as their American cousins, so he walked through the gauntlet as the rain continued to fall and quickly ducked under the shelter of the gate.

That fake smile, father, perhaps you should practice that in front of a mirror next time. He bowed to his father, low and respectful.

Akashi-sama took him by the shoulders and raised him up. "I'm so proud of you, son. Welcome home."

As Akashi turned to say a word to the crowd - one of his trademark NBA catchphrases - his father's hand clamped down on the place where the muscle of his shoulder connected to his neck. A wave of pain radiated down his spine, twinging his already fatigued back. He turned up his professional-grade fake smile and stayed quiet.

"Seijūrō has only been home for an hour, ladies and gentlemen, you'll forgive if he's too tired to answer questions after sixteen hours of travel." A general murmur of polite agreement spread through the crowd and soon the Akashis were inside the formal dining room where a retinue of men awaited them.

"Seijūrō, I'd like to introduce you to the current slate of the Board of Directors of the Akashi Foundation. We will assist you in creating a full PR package of information before you speak to the reporters. Now, let's get him caught up, shall we?"


"Welcome, Akashi-kun," the old man in charge of the stable greeted him when he was finally released from the three-hour meeting.

At least lunch had been provided.

"It's good to see you again, Ojisan. I'd like to ride Yukimaru. Will you ready him for me?"

"Oh," the old man said, wringing his hands around his cap. "I wish I could, but the old boy is already in the trailer and ready to go. He's being sold at auction tomorrow. They are coming for him this afternoon."

"Who authorized the sale of my horse?" he snapped, his golden eye flashing in anger.

"Your father, of course. You haven't ridden Yukimaru in years, not since your last visit. He's sure to have a better life… maybe as a stud," he said, not making the last sentence too convincing.

More likely he'll be sent to slaughter for dog food as punishment for some slight I'd given to my father. "Why was I not consulted on this? Yukimaru is my property!"

"Then you should have provided better for him all these years, Seijūrō," his father's dismissive voiced answered from behind him.

Akashi ground his teeth and smiled, turning slowly, "I hadn't thought one horse out of twenty would be that much of a burden to you, father, you should have let me known. You could have taken the money from my trust fund. Be that as it may, I would like to ride today - now that the rain has stopped - Ojisan, would you ready Daiwa for me?" If you're going to attempt to kill my horse, father, then I'll ride your favorite mare.

"Of course, sir. I'll bring her to the paddock."

"Is my tack still available? Or has my saddle been sold off as well?"

"No, sir, I mean yes, sir. All of your equipment is here. You'll find your riding clothes in the changing room."

"Excellent, I'll change as you prepare her."


Akashi sent a quick text to Furihata. [There's a white horse named Yukimaru going up for auction tomorrow - I want her, spare no expense. Have her shipped back to California and stabled as close to us as you can.]

He hit send, but then realized he'd used the pronoun 'us' instead of 'me.' It was a stupid, ametuer mistake. It was far too close to game time to be making such foolish errors.

[I'll call the auction house now] came the reply. [I'm sure with the money I can throw at them, they'll let me buy her outright tonight]

[Do it through an intermediary.]

[Of course, Akashi-sama.]

[Excellent, thank you.]

[Do you require anything else tonight?] Bless Kōki and his ambiguous messages. If only I had half his skill.

[No, I will most likely spend the night at the compound. I'll contact you if I need further assistance.]

[Yes, sir.]

There was nothing more to do at that point, so he finished changing and slid his feet into the boots. There was a soft knock at the door. As he came out he saw two horses, Daiwa and Tenpesuto, and his father was already dressed out for riding. Sitting astride Daiwa, he leaves me the stubborn stallion with the temperament to match his name. So much for a relaxing ride.

"We'll take the north path. There are about thirty reporters camped out on the ridge. The setting will make for a familial photograph."

Akashi swung up into the saddle, turning Tenpesuto 's head. "Yes, sir."