Hello back here again with another update, whoever read this.
Thank you.
If you're back here again, I don't know thank you even more.
I started writing this to vent about my grandmother being advised by a doctor for me to see a psychiatrist and to get me into therapy again.
I also wanted to vent about my experiences with the mental health system in my country in the Caribbean I never expected such love for this story.
Anyways enough of my rambling.
This chapter is focused on Akashi, now I do not have DID but rather I have Depersonalisation, so everything may not be as accurate so take it with a grain of salt. If by the end you have a question about it you can ask I'll be willing to answer.
Triggers are mentions of physical abuse, mentions of scars at the start.
"You did well… Seijuuro…" He looks not at his father. "Your coach told me everything I am sorry."
He continues to walk towards his room, his father's lingering voice slowly dying with distance.
"Tomorrow evening let's have dinner… for real this… time…"
He hears as his door shuts.
Such behaviour was not polite 'honour thy parents' or 'honour thy elders.'
Whoever made such a rule should just drop dead.
There are no servants around he looks out the window of his small study in his room, his father gets into the car and the chauffeur drives off.
The ache in his chest makes its way to his throat, his cheeks flare up as moisture cascades down his cheeks, and his lips and jaw feel sore but he does not stop at least he thinks.
The words his father mutters had been his dream "You did well." He remembers his father's scolding, he had won countless times, had perfect grades, perfected the piano and violin even recently started the flute, elegant calligraphy was considered quite advanced in shogi for his age, every time he'd look to his father for him to just mutter "you did well." by eleven he had given up. It was Ironic that out of every victory he would hear those words at the sting of a loss.
His already sore limbs dropped harder than usual unto his mattress.
He'd wonder if Kuroko was available. Part of him doesn't even want to hear Kuroko, a part of him also knew Kuroko aside from Midorima would be the perfect person to talk to.
He looks through his contacts he was about to call but stopped.
He remembered the bone-crushing hug he received from Kuroko's grandmother his parents were probably celebrating with him, didn't he say that he lived with them and his grandmother, he'd ruin their mood.
He doesn't call Kuroko he was celebrating, a well-earned victory no less.
He hates that he cannot hold a grudge against Kuroko.
"Damn you Kuroko… you better be having fun…" his throat is raw and his mouth is parched in the aftermath of his sobs.
"Can you tell me… how long it had been since you've seen your mother Kuroko-kun?"
"I don't really remember it has been six months in reality but she only came home just to go back that's the last time I saw her."
"Your father?"
"Two months ago, he stayed for my first term in Seirin but with the way the company had grown he had to go…"
"Do your parents get along?"
"No, well… I'm not sure usually it's my fault they're like that they argue over my grades a bit… or my uncle… the one I told you about… at the end of the night she's gone."
"Has she ever hit you?"
He fiddles with his thumbs and his other fingers.
"A few times… she wants the best for me so I understand why…"
He looks up Akashi meets his timid gaze, Kuroko then looks elsewhere.
"What hit are we talking about here?"
His lip quivers.
"She has a whip but I heard many parents of pianists or musicians do it so it's normal I think… she says it helps with muscle memory."
"Has anyone stopped it?"
"She does it when father or grandmother isn't around… but it's just to learn the piece better… it's normal…"
"Kuroko-kun I'm not going to say a little slap on the wrist is not normal… but before anything do you mind taking off your wristbands you don't have to flash your wrists for everyone here… just show me… you can tell me no alright?"
He nods and slowly peels them off his wrist, tender skin is lined atop healed scars… none of which as far as Akashi can tell was self-harm it was dealt by someone else he felt sick just glancing at them.
"Kuroko-kun did these hurt when she did it?"
"I… yes…"
"Did it bleed?"
Kuroko squeezes his eyes shut, perhaps to stop the tears. "Yes…" he croaked.
"No parent should make their child bleed."
"I'm sorry…"
"Please do not apologise."
"I'm… sorry…"
Kuroko was the last person to speak, he had said that nothing was wrong with him and his father, well that was true to some extent, ever since that day, he had started petty arguments with his father.
His father in reaction simply just gave him a smile it had made him insane with rage when he did it where were the consequences he had learnt to expect?
His father had told the servants that they would be able to rest and even took them camping, which during the car ride he initially thought was a ploy to send him away, it wasn't a ploy although he was relieved their car shutting down wasn't exactly ideal where the both of them, not when they had to push it to the nearest God-blessed gas station. He found out that afternoon his father was not the strongest man alive.
His father had almost burnt the roast that he was making, they just opted for some trail mix and s'mores and a bottle of whiskey as his father slurred on about stocks and his mother (Akashi's grandmother) being in his words 'a wrinkly old bitch.'
He chuckled at that, inwardly of course, he didn't in a million years want to give his father the satisfaction that he found his light-hearted conversation pleasurable, he was being petty but he thinks he deserves to be a bit petty.
Another time his father had told the chefs that he would cook that night.
The chef offered his condolences to him.
He had honestly thought that Momoi was the one who cooked it was barely edible.
They had finally given up on the 'lung and throat cancer in a pot' he had cooked and for the first time in, according to his father, '20 years or so' had fast food.
He had opted to cook or help cook. His father was still a bit prideful insisting that he can indeed cook and that Seijuuro was being picky until he ate his 'high blood pressure in a pot' and immediately gagged for water.
He openly laughs at his father's scrunched-up face at the pure saltiness of the dish.
Another night of takeout.
Life with his father seemed… not as unpleasant as it always was.
His personal butler, Yamada Tori had told him that his father was opening up showing him his flaws and that he had acted like that before Shiori's (his mother's) death.
Well, no doubt talking was a lot easier.
"Father… I've been meaning to ask you this… why didn't grandmother come to my birthday?"
"Ah… well, as you know, our family is expected to succeed… now Seijuuro answer me this… where do you think I learnt my ways from?"
His father takes a sip from his wine glass, Seijuuro had found it peculiar, his father never truly openly drank wine, he ignores it, for now, he will ask another time.
Masaomi sighs, "Failure has no place next to the Akashi name." he says, "I'm sure you know we own tons of hotels, we even rent out buildings to the government, we have foundations that we donate to our ancestors have been involved in politics… we even have technology companies yet the Akashi family was not always like that…"
"Mud bloods?" Seijuuro asks.
His father nods "I see Tori has told you everything, but yes the discrimination…"
"…It got to our heads…" Seijuuro finishes the sentence.
His father responds with an affirmative grunt, "Our ancestors slowly but surely moved up in society, we finally had established a name for ourselves." His father sighs "but at what cost, I can barely stand my mother my father died so I didn't have him to fall back on, Seijuuro I ask you to answer me honestly… in your years of Teiko even in your first year of high school… could you actually stand me?"
He is silent… he decided against lying "No… I hated you… I hated that you after mother passed on…"
He expects a scolding but no his father just… laughs.
"I hated that me too, I just could not come to the reality that Shiori was gone… my mother got to me, many say that the family was cursed, blood was considered and probably still is considered impure, our significant others are doomed to die so I thought it would've been better to just pretend she never existed… I can't keep blaming my mother… I should be a man and just…" his father's breath hitches, Akashi was astonished but he says nothing, his father grips his glass, "I'm sorry Seijuuro…"
He doesn't think he can forgive him not yet, truthfully; he was glad his grandmother was not invited to his birthday celebration.
"I have some homework to complete… thank you for telling me, father."
He meant it, he was glad that he had listened to his father, he understood, his father had just begun late November cleaning up their relationship.
Every year his grandmother would compare other family members to him, he knew it was illogical but eventually it grated on him. Constant imaginary battles he had with his cousins every birthday until it devolved into a real one.
By not inviting his grandmother his father had made it clear that he didn't want such a thought process anymore.
So, he thanked him.
He had not prepared to hear what Kuroko had to say, he had so many questions, firstly, who was that lady that would come in place of his grandmother on sick days, why did she say she was his mother?
Also, a funeral?
As far as he knew everyone in Seirin was fine the rest of their eccentric group was fine so… he had blanked out for some of it, Ogi is what he thinks he had heard, if so, it was that Meiko kid, the one he had mercilessly in his own madness destroyed.
It was surreal, just four weeks ago Kuroko was overjoyed and telling him that Ogiwara wanted to go up against the Generation of Miracles and Seirin, now that.
His mother sounded like a bitch too, usually, he'd refrain from profanity but this was his own thoughts so it didn't matter, who said he couldn't swear in his brain?
"I apologise, after fronting for two years you meet something like this." He speaks, but he didn't understand how he was able to hear him, well psychiatrist had told him that was co-fronting however it was still something to get used to.
"I don't think I can blame you… I'm angry of course but I don't think it's worth it to be angry in the first place."
His other self scoffs. "I don't need your validation; I'm apologising so just accept it."
"We haven't had those chats in a while, things had bound to develop." He sighs, "what I'm upset about is that woman, so far, I dislike her… there's no point in you apologising right now well at least to me because you thought you were doing the best for me, I understand that… now the question is how long has Kuroko been hiding all this?"
"Sei-chan?" Mibuchi called out to him, he jolts up, to see Mibuchi frowning, how long had he been out of it?
"Are you okay?" Mibuchi rests his hand on his shoulder, "I know I'm a bit on edge with Tetsuya-chan talking about it… all that stuff… so how are you?"
"I'm shocked, honestly… he always talked about his father, he said he had a mother and his grandmother I knew her well, so I just I don't know really… I don't think I have time to actually do this we have joint training with Yosen and I somehow got Midorima to convince his coach at Shutoku."
"Sei-chan, you're regressing again…"
"I know I just… don't think I want to talk about it… not until I talk to him…" he looks to Mibuchi, "I'll find out, I'll talk to him, do not worry Mibuchi-san."
Mibuchi smiles at him, "I trust you."
He appreciates Mibuchi, he at first reminded him of Midorima which is why he got closer to him but while Midorima had the ferocity of a mother cat and her new-born kittens Mibuchi was like a loving older sister that would probably kill anyone who messed with their siblings.
After the Winter Cup, it was Mibuchi who had noticed first he wasn't doing too well.
He had told Mibuchi what he had told Kuroko about his father's response when he found out about the loss and that his father wanted him to see a psychiatrist and Mibuchi had agreed it was necessary and encouraged him.
Going to see a psychiatrist was eye-opening, he had read about why he had another 'self' in his mind, he knew that it was trauma that caused him to split at five but he didn't understand the trigger itself.
According to the psychiatrist, his father being emotionally absent and forcing him to do work not a single minute to rest or emotionally process his mother's death had him 'walking on eggshells' which had caused him to split, his alter ego had become a cushion of sorts because he didn't have anyone to fall back on, his other-self had likely been co-conscious most of the time but it was the fear of being left alone that had caused his other-self to take over to protect him, the host when the unity of the Teiko basketball team had fallen.
He had gotten prescribed some mood suppressors but psychiatrists aren't exactly therapists, they can help with perspective but they usually refer patients to therapists in the long run, they usually just diagnose and administer medications.
He and his father had gotten a list of therapists, his father did the calling and let him listen to their voice sometimes he'd even let him speak to them if he'd asked.
Yet none of them just had what he was looking for, he did not know what exactly he was trying to look for but they just didn't sit right with him.
Some on the list had initially answered the call with a tone of monotony but would perk up at the name 'Akashi' as soon as he had heard that, he crosses out their name from the list others didn't have time to talk and only the secretary answered he crossed off their names.
His father and he had grown weary after a weekend of calling
That Sunday he finally asks, "Why are you so hell-bent on therapy all of a sudden?"
A question he should've asked a long time ago but just chose not to for a while, he had possibly hoped that somehow, someway his father would just stop calling the numbers but he didn't, he wouldn't.
"Rather father, why did you seek therapy?"
His father pauses, he slightly parts his lips but presses them together again, he averts his gaze, then with an exhale, "Shiori, your mother had begged me since I met her to seek therapy, it was one of her last wishes."
He glares at his father, directly into his eyes, blasphemy, dishonour he knows, yet he cannot contain himself.
"I had gone to therapy after the finals of your third year in Teiko, the air around you, it changed, now I know it's the 'other' you, it was then I asked myself is that how I am?" He sighs, "I…" he averts his gaze once again, "I had disgraced myself after realising that I had made you like that anyways it's been a year of therapy and I wish to change it's what your mother wanted for me."
"Huh…I don't get it… disgraced yourself?"
"It's better you don't… I want to get better I want to change, you have PTSD because of me I want to finally listen to Shiori." His father eyes him with unwavering determination, "I know it's late you need not tell me, you don't have to forgive me for what I did but give me a chance."
Truthfully he knew what his father meant by saying he disgraced himself, he just wanted to hear him say that he had a mental breakdown, he's twisted, spiteful but he thinks he has every right to be for now he wishes to see how long it would take until he reverted back.
He had been giving his father a chance for a while now. His father will crack yet a part of him also yearns to just live with him the way he had in the month they shared. Their dysfunctional lifestyle had him just itching to pick a fight with the older Akashi.
"That's awful Sei-chan, absolutely awful." Mibuchi drones "you're telling me that you haven't found a therapist yet?"
"I— they just don't have what I'm looking for, their vibe I don't really know how to describe it, it's just cold." Akashi can only lament.
"That's no good Sei-chan." Mibuchi groans and cups his cheeks, he then perks up, "Sei-chan what about group therapy?"
He looks away from the papers to Mibuchi, generally, no, he hasn't thought about that.
Mibuchi chuckles a bit calling him too cute and writes down a number.
"Do try her Sei-chan, she is Saotome Tanya, she deals with everything,"
He looks at the piece of paper, sceptical, nonetheless, he opens his school folder and slides the paper in there.
"I highly recommend her, I go to her."
He now was confused with what Mibuchi confessed, "Why?" he asked
"It's no secret I'm gay, I like boys, I like nail polish, baking and pastel clothing in middle school when I decided to come out in that issue of basketball monthly I was demonised for it the bullying got so bad I had gone to a dark place." Mibuchi flashes him a begrudging smile "Don't look so distraught Sei-chan I'm in a better place, she helped everyone helped, the sessions are not like those movies she does different things like we go hiking go to museums and even art therapy one time we did a play Mako-chan was Aphrodite" he clasps their hands together, "I speak in full confidence, the sessions are all-inclusive, I'm going next Saturday, you can give her your name and we can go together."
Unsure of what exactly to do, "I'll think about it."
As a joke he had called her, he was expecting to hear a half-dead tone and to cross off yet another name.
Yet he didn't get to do that, she had a sort of accent on her speech, she most likely was mixed or had been a returnee her speech was informal, yet her tone was so calming he gave her his name, he even mentioned that Mibuchi had referred him.
He told his father, ready to hear mentions of his incompetence.
"If this therapist is who you've chosen then I have no issues with it, I trust you know what you're doing."
Now the first thing to do is call Kise.
Of course, Kise squeals his name when answering.
"You don't have to report to me anymore, I found out." He decides to get straight to the point.
Kise nervously laughs, "Akashichii just what are you saying?"
"I'm saying that I know what happened with Kuroko."
"I'm sorry." Kise whines.
He shakes his head, "No, don't apologise there's no call for it, I had my suspicions, I did not want to confront reality, I had asked you to observe him because I had hoped I was wrong." He sighs, pressing his eyebrows together "Thank you, Kise."
"Can I ask how?" he knew how much he cared for Kuroko, he didn't ask to pry, his question was out of sincere care for him.
"I suggest you wait till Kuroko wishes to tell you."
"Alright, keep well Akashichii~"
Just what in the hell had his life become?
Yes, mudbloods was a Japanese thing at one point, I didn't want to go into depth and describe it in the chapter or story because it felt cringy to me.
Before the Meiji period person who dealt with blood or corpses were heavily discriminated against because in Shinto and Buddhism blood isn't really seen as pure, well if we want to be specific blood in menstruation so they literally have a Toilet God treated as a household deity but of their tolerance of impurity, it's a bit long to explain but yeah, after the Meiji restoration period the mudblood class system was abolished but there was still prejudice because: society.
I don't know how other countries do it but here psychiatrists usually just diagnose and prescribe medication, I know that there are some sussy stuff when it comes down to mental hospitals in Japan for example instead of 10 to 30 days you need to stay there for over 200 days cause money, because they're independently ran, for legal reasons that's a theory and not confirmed seriously Japan I'm poor.