It's quarter past six in the goddamn morning.

Heyyy guys, I'm dying right now because I literally just finished writing this. I was gonna put it off until tomorrow, but I was on a roll, and couldn't find an appropriate place to leave off so, well, you know, here I am. As soon as I post this I'm going the fuck to sleep. Thank God it's Sunday.

To the guest Katie: I'm very flattered that you've been waiting for this chapter, but I can't even predict when I'm going to update anymore, haha I'm so sorry. It's cuz I'm in uni now, and so I have to put that first before writing so...yeah. I'll most definitely make an effort to update as soon as possible though. So please bear with me!

Fair warning, this chapter is kinda angsty so expect a lot of feels. Also I haven't reread this so I apologize for any typos I'll fix them when I wake up. But yeah, I think that's all there is to say.

Please enjoy!

Chapter 9

Bokushi walked back from their father's office towards the east wing, where he knew his room was located. He could have gone anywhere else, but his instincts told him that he wouldn't go far in this instance.

He knew exactly what he would do, they used to be connected, after all.

He turned into the corridor where Seijuro's room was located and walked up to the door, leaning in to listen to any type of sound. He heard nothing, but he was convinced that he was in there, so he opened the door to the room and walked in, spotting Seijuro sitting by the edge of the bed, who looked up when he realized someone had entered the room.

Bingo.

"Bokushi. What are you doing in here?" Seijuro inquired.

Bokushi ignored the question as he stood there by the doorframe.

"You couldn't change his mind, could you?"

Seijuro offered up a bitter laugh. "Is it really that easy to tell?"

"Your face gave it away," Bokushi replied. "You look dissatisfied."

Seijuro gave a tired sigh and folded his arms. "Well, if we're going to talk, you might as well come in."

"Of course. Pardon the intrusion."

Bokushi walked over to the large bed and tried to hoist himself onto it, but it was too high. He grunted in annoyance. "Curses."

Seijuro shook his head before lifting him up and setting the boy next to him. Bokushi finally settled himself properly, and let his gaze rest on the floor while his legs slowly swung back and forth.

"Allow me to repeat my question. What are you doing here, Bokushi? Why is it that you came to my room?"

"You looked like you needed company," Bokushi answered. "Father was rather harsh, after all."

Seijuro glanced at him briefly. "How much did you hear?"

Bokushi shrugged. "The end bit is all I heard." He abruptly stopped swinging his legs and the expression on his face took on something akin to melancholy. "I'm not wanted here, apparently."

Seijuro lowered his head in apology and put a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry, Bokushi," he said, his voice downcast but sincere. "He wouldn't listen to me."

Bokushi nodded in understanding. "It was inevitable," he said. "If I could give my title of absolute to anyone in this world, it would be him. Everything he says has to be followed through down to the last detail. It's frustrating… when you know no matter how much you try, he'll never listen."

"I can't comprehend how you were able to handle him when we switched," said Seijuro.

"You have it the wrong way around, Seijuro-nii," Bokushi responded. "I was the one being handled, not him."

"I suppose. But you seem to be more daring than me. I'm surprised you never said anything to him."

Bokushi stared at Seijuro. "You and I are more similar than you think," he said. "There is a reason why I have never done such a thing. In a way, like you, I was afraid to rebel."

Seijuro blinked, processing what he just said. "What do you mean?"

"Do you think I was any different towards father than you were? When I took control, he saw no difference in personality. To him, I was still the same puppet and he was still the same puppet master. I didn't rebel, I didn't act out, all I did was take your place to fulfill the duties he had assigned to me and lead the Teiko basketball team to victory. I may be able to make anyone around me subservient with a few words, but in the end, he was the only one I still bowed to. I have not once defied him."

Seijuro was sitting there, stunned into silence at what this small boy was telling him.

"Perhaps it was because of his influence, or maybe it was because of who he is to me, but no matter his request, I agreed without question, since I was taught that what he had planned for me was the best way to move forward," Bokushi continued. "I've never received reattribution for anything I've done for him, but for once in my life, those were waters I did not want to test, due to the fear of what might happen if I did."

"So what are we meant to do? Just leave him to his decision?" said Seijuro. "He'll make sure that you don't come back. If I don't send you out, then he'd do it himself."

"The way that this situation is progressing, that seems to be the route we're going to have to take."

"Don't say that!" Seijuro said in exasperation. "If I follow father's orders, that means you leave. And I refuse to let that happen."

Bokushi fell silent and turned away from Akashi.

"…Why?"

Seijuro furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. "Why what?" he said.

Bokushi bit his lip. "I'm asking why this matters so much to you. You sounded so desperate when you were in his office as if you'd die if I didn't stay. You didn't have to be my guardian. You could have just called Child Services and had me sent to a foster home. You would have done that if it were any other child. Yet you want so much for me to be here, despite the fact that I've gotten on your nerves, despite the fact that I've caused you trouble, despite the fact that your life would have been easier if I wasn't in the way throwing curveballs in your plans. Why do you want me?"

Bokushi was taken aback when two hands whirled him back around, his heterochromatic gaze now locked onto Seijuro's distraught face, his identical red eyes flooded with shock.

"Why would you even ask that question?" Seijuro exclaimed, sounding more offended than ever. "I would never think for a second of sending you away. You might be correct in saying that this might not be the case for just any other child, but the reason why I want you to stay is because you aren't just any other child. You are much more than a stranger to me. You are me. And I made a silent vow that I would be your guardian, no matter the circumstances. I will go find father again and do all I can to persuade him to let you stay. I am in your debt, after all."

Bokushi couldn't do much else but nod. There was no way that he would go and discourage Seijuro with his words. Not when he looked like that. Not when he looked so determined.

There was no reason for Bokushi to tell him not to try again. For his entire life, Bokushi had been taught by his father that in life, winners are affirmed everything while losers are denied everything. Bokushi never tried to rebel against his father because, in his mind, there was that aching feeling that he would be shot down. That he would lose. And that was enough to just keep doing his father's bidding like a mindless zombie, excelling in task after task, never questioning the logic behind his excessive workload. But even though Seijuro lost once to his father, that didn't stop him from wanting to try again.

Bokushi could see it in his eyes. He still had the urge to win.

Despite the fact that Seijuro had already tasted defeat, he didn't let it paralyze him. Not even Bokushi had this quality, and that in itself was something that he always envied about his older brother.

"If that's how you feel, then I won't stop you," said Bokushi. "Go and talk to father one more time."

Seijuro smiled as he stood up from his bed. "I'm glad I have your support, Bokushi."

"But let me go with you this time. You can do all the talking if that is what you want, but I still want to be there."

Seijuro nodded. "If that's the case, then I'd be honored for you to accompany me."

He held out his hand, and that was all the signal Bokushi needed to stand up as well and take that hand in his own, following Seijuro out of his room and into the corridor, where they went back in the direction of their father's office.

While they were walking, Bokushi looked back up at him with questioning eyes.

"Seijuro-nii?"

"Hmm?"

"You said that you were in my debt," said Bokushi. "What did you mean by that?"

Seijuro slowed his pace and then stopped altogether, making Bokushi stare at him in anticipation. He took on a very grave expression and stared off into space, his eyes distant.

"You were born from my grief, and you continued to manifest from my fear and frustration," he began. "When you switched with me, you took on my duties as a captain, as a student, and as an heir to my father's cooperation. You were my only defense mechanism, and you were burdened with my workload—the workload that I wasn't able to handle. But in the end, even that became too much for you. For all the trouble you've caused me this week, I've caused you leaps and bounds more than I can stand to admit, and for that, I apologize."

"You don't have to apologize for anything," Bokushi said with a start. "That is why I was created. My job was to protect you."

"It was," Seijuro concurred. "You have always protected me. But now, it's about time that I started protecting you, too."

Bokushi felt a light squeeze on his hand and saw Seijuro give him a reassuring smile. Suddenly he felt a warmth blossom in his chest. It continued to spread to the top of his head and then down to the tips of his toes, taking his whole body by surprise. What was this sensation? What was it about what Seijuro just said that made him warm on the inside? He couldn't provide an explanation. All he knew was one thing.

It felt nice.

He said nothing more but continued on with Seijuro to their father's office.

Unbeknownst to Bokushi, Seijuro glanced down at him and took a look at his face. It had remained mostly unchanged, but he could see the happiness dance across his eyes for a fleeting moment, and he could tell that Bokushi had gotten the message from what he said.

He smiled.

~O~

Standing in front of his father's office once again, Seijuro took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

"You may enter," he heard from inside. With no extra confirmation needed, the two brothers exchanged a brief glance before Seijuro twisted the doorknob and pushed the door open.

"Father…"

His father took his eyes off his computer, spotting Seijuro at the door along with Bokushi. Immediately, Seijuro could see a surge of annoyance flare up in him as he stopped working.

"Seijuro, I told you I want him out of the house," Masaomi said, brooding over the two of them.

"Father," Seijuro began, "I would like to discuss the situation with you."

"This is not up for discussion," said Masaomi. "Your attempt to convince me otherwise is a vain one."

"Please wait a minute—"

"I have given you my verdict on this ordeal already. If you think that I am going to waste even a second more on this nonsense, then you have clearly not been taught properly who makes the rules in this household. You will leave my office and call Child Services to get rid of this boy. This is the last time I will hear about this."

Seijuro stood there with Bokushi, staring at his father as he barked out his command. Thirty seconds in and he was already being kicked out? This wasn't how it was supposed to be.

He was not going to give up a second time. If he did, it would all be over, and that was something he didn't want to think about. His whole life, he never strayed from the path his father set out for him. But now, it was a new era. He wasn't the same timid boy he was in middle school, too afraid to speak out against him. In this day and age, he was a different person, who had been through more than his father could ever imagine.

He may just be some puppet to his father, but this puppet had a voice. And he was going to use it.

So, in the wake of this predicament, his father waiting for him to leave the room, what he did instead was clench his fists and stand his ground as he sucked in his breath.

"No."

Masaomi's eyebrows furrowed and his eyes went wide as he looked back up at his son.

"What did you just say to me?" he said. His voice was dangerously low, words laced with poison. Just the sound of his voice made Seijuro's heart beat twice as fast as it normally would, realizing what he had just done.

He just said no.

He just said no to his father.

If the realization that this was the first time in sixteen years that he was rebelling didn't hit him hard enough, the look that his father was giving him would.

He felt a nudge to his arm. He looked down and saw that Bokushi was staring at him as well. He didn't say anything, but Seijuro understood what he was trying to tell him from his expression.

'Don't let yourself be silenced.'

Seijuro nodded and took another deep breath to steady himself for the oncoming battle.

"No… I said no, father," Seijuro said, more firm this time with his declaration. He was not going to sound weak in front of him. "I am not sending him away."

"You dare defy me, Seijuro?" Masaomi threatened, glaring daggers at his son from behind his desk. "Do not test my patience today. Know. Your. Place."

If Seijuro were a few years younger, he would have started shaking on the spot. But he wasn't thirteen anymore. He suppressed his fears to the back of his mind and pressed on.

"I believe I do know my place," said Seijuro. "I am the son of the Akashi family, and an Akashi is never submissive. I will speak my mind, and you are going to listen to me."

No one in Masaomi's entire career had ever told him that they will do something. That was how Seijuro knew he was for sure standing on thin ice. And yet, as his father sat there at his desk, Seijuro knew his point had made an impact. How was his father supposed to be angry at him for saying that, when he was the one who taught Seijuro this in the first place?

His father briefly glanced down at Bokushi. Seijuro predicted that his father was probably wondering what was so important about this young boy to make Seijuro fight this way.

Seijuro watched as his father leaned back in his seat as if he was contemplating his decision, before finally giving his answer.

"I would not usually tolerate this behavior from you, Seijuro," he said. "But since you seem to feel so strongly about this, just this once, I will hear you out."

He lay his hands on his lap, fingers intertwined, and crossed his legs. "Speak."

Words could not describe how triumphant Seijuro was feeling now that his father was going to listen for once. But that moment did not last long because Seijuro realized that in order for him to explain this mess to his father, he would have to explain how Bokushi got there in the first place.

It was one thing to explain it to his staff, but another thing to explain it to his father. Seijuro had never discussed his own personal feelings with his father because any type of emotion at all was seen as a weakness in his household. But now, the crisis at hand demanded that he make an exception. He would have to dive into those forbidden topics that were never discussed at the dinner table. Right here, right now, Seijuro would have to pour out his entire life to him in one sitting. It wasn't long before his mind was flooded with anxiety.

Where do I even begin? There's too much to tell him, he thought. All the emotions that I kept hidden for years… I now have to…

He looked down at Bokushi. The young boy gave him a serious expression and a slight nod of the head.

Don't think. Just speak.

Seijuro took a breath and deeply exhaled.

"First of all, I just want to clarify who this boy is." He gestured to Bokushi next to him. "This is my younger brother. Not in the way you think," he quickly added, seeing his father quirk an eyebrow. "Allow me to explain."

Okay, here was his chance. "Father, are you aware of what Dissociative Identity Disorder is?"

That was an unusual way to begin his explanation. Masaomi was almost unable to hide his confusion at this odd question that his son posed to him. Despite the puzzling inquiry, he answered him regardless.

"I am aware of what this disorder is," he answered swiftly. "It involves an individual able to dissociate themselves by switching personalities, correct?"

"Yes," said Seijuro. It took a lot of research on his part after the Winter Cup, scouring medical and psychology-related websites to figure out what on earth was going on inside of his head, but when he found the term 'D.I.D.', he fell down a rabbit hole of information and then it all just clicked. He finally had a name for his condition. And if he could put a name to it, that meant he wasn't the only one experiencing this type of phenomenon.

He had stayed up late one night scrolling through a forum comprised of people with this disorder. Reading their stories and their struggles comforted him in a way he had never felt before because he finally had people he could relate to. People who understood him. After reading several posts, he ended up joining that same forum and talking to other members, trying to learn as much as he could about D.I.D. from those who were affected by it, so he could further understand himself. Those conversations were what equipped him with the current knowledge he had related to D.I.D. He was still working up the courage to see a therapist to get a proper diagnosis, but after realizing that therapy was covered by his insurance which meant he could do it behind his father's back, he felt a lot more comfortable about going, especially if he found a therapist in Kyoto.

However, due to such unforeseen circumstances, it seemed that Seijuro would have to tell his father the truth about what was really going on in his mind after all.

"The way my other self was brought into this world is not the way I was brought here," Seijuro began. "He was born under different circumstances. Ever since mother died…" he paused swallowing the pain that tried to force its way up his body. "I had been hearing a voice in the back of my mind. It sounded like me, but it wasn't mine. It would sometimes speak to me when I hit low points, when I was overloaded with work, or when I couldn't sleep. Other times it was quiet. It was quite difficult to put a face to this voice, but one day I decided that because it sounded like me, it must look like me, and that is when the voice revealed itself. He walked out of the shadows of my consciousness, displaying his face to me. He was exactly the same, but his left eye was gold instead of red. He introduced himself as my other self, and since then, he has always been standing behind me in the back of my mind."

"I see," his father said, sounding less skeptical than Seijuro expected. "And I assume, from what you are telling me, that this boy here is the other personality."

"Correct," Seijuro confirmed. "He had been manifesting in my mind for years, but did not emerge until middle school."

"Third year, if I'm not mistaken."

Seijuro's eyes went wide at his father's sudden statement. Did he just…?

"How did you know that?" Seijuro asked him in disbelief.

Masaomi let out a brief sigh.

"You seem to lack faith in my capabilities, Seijuro," his father responded. "I am far more perceptive than you imagine me to be. Considering the fact that I've been raising you for the past sixteen-plus years, it was not a Herculean task to notice that your mannerisms had changed and your behavior was different from how it originally was. It is only now that you have provided me with this information do I understand that this was a completely different personality."

Seijuro was rendered speechless for a few seconds. "But… if you knew that I had changed, then why did you not say anything to me?"

Masaomi stared at his son. "Because your change did not impact your performance in your educational or your extra-curricular activities, I did not see a need to interfere."

Seijuro gritted his teeth at his father's words. Was academic success all he was good for? He had mental health issues for five years, and his father let it slide because he was still able to do well in school?

A part of Seijuro wanted to argue that it wasn't entirely his father's fault. It was Seijuro who had not spoken up about his problems in the first place. Even if it wasn't his father he told, it could have easily been someone else. But on the other hand, how could he have felt comfortable to open up when his father created an environment where being vulnerable was not to be tolerated? Seijuro was just afraid of appearing weak in front of him so he kept silent. 'Feelings' were such a foreign concept in the Akashi household as of late.

A small bitter smile slipped onto Seijuro's face as he stared down at his feet.

"I suppose so," he said quietly. "And from that, I suppose it is understandable as to why you didn't interfere since it did not affect my ability to function, anyway." (the "but that doesn't make your inaction justifiable" part went unsaid). "No matter. At least now you are aware of what caused this change in me over the past couple of years."

"There is one thing, however, you left unmentioned," said Masaomi. "While I understand how this personality came to be, it does not explain why he is standing here before us."

Seijuro looked back up at his father. He had long abandoned that impatient scowl on his face and replaced it with a level expression, his usually cold eyes flashing with intrigue.

"Unfortunately, the cause of how he got here is unknown," Seijuro admitted. "He just appeared in my room on Sunday and since then I've kept him in my room until he was able to come home with me. The way it seems, he won't be disappearing at all anymore, so until he's old enough to go out on his own, I will be his caretaker."

His father blinked at that. "Seijuro, before you make your decision, I advise that you consider the extra responsibilities that you must take on if this is the path you are choosing to take."

"I already have," said Seijuro. "I don't care if it takes up my time. I don't care that this will add to my workload. I already have a million other things I'm doing, what is adding one more thing to the list going to do? Even if it is difficult to manage, even if it means I have to shift around my obligations, I am willing to make this work. He is a part of me, father, and you can call me weak all you want to for being so disgustingly sentimental, but I don't want to let him go. So, this last time, I will ask you this question, not as the heir to your corporation… but as your son."

He bowed towards Masaomi as he allowed his eyes to fall shut. "Please, father. Let him stay."

As his father continued to sit there in silence, Seijuro remained in his position, his head bowed and his eyes closed. He was getting slightly concerned since his father never took that long to make up his mind. It was only after thirty seconds that he finally heard his father sigh and shift in his seat.

"Very well," he said at last. "I will permit this other personality to live here. But do make sure that this does not hinder your progress in your education."

Seijuro's eyes shot open so wide they nearly fell out of their sockets.

Father said yes.

FATHER SAID YES.

"Thank you, father," Seijuro said, trying to remain somewhat calm. "I will have everything under control. You do not need to be concerned about my progress."

"That's fine then. If you'll excuse me."

Masaomi rose from his seat behind the desk and walked past the two of them, pausing only once to look at the young boy by Seijuro's side before walking out the door.

As soon as the door closed, Bokushi looked up at his older brother, visibly impressed.

"You were able to successfully hold your ground against father," he said. "Congratulations, Seijuro-nii."

There was no response, and Bokushi raised a brow. "Seijuro-nii?"

Seijuro finally responded, with a shaky nod of his head and a vague grab of his tie, pulling it a bit loose so he could breathe better.

"Yes, that's…that's great and all," he began. "But after standing up to father like that, I suddenly have the urge to vomit or faint and I'm not sure which I'd rather do right now."

Bokushi patted his arm as he began to lead him out of the office. "That's nothing some tofu soup can't fix. Come, let's go to the kitchen. A celebratory meal is in order."

As the two exited through the door and began heading downstairs, Masaomi was on the other side of the corridor, watching them leave before continuing his walk back to his bedroom.

Dinner could most definitely be put on hold for him. For the time being, he was going to sit in his room to ponder the situation with a calming cup of tea.

...

A few hours later, Seijuro was back in his own room reading a novel in bed. He was just about to finish the chapter when he heard his door open and saw Bokushi standing in the doorway in his pajamas.

"Good evening, Seijuro-nii."

Seijuro set his novel down on the bed. "Bokushi, what a pleasant surprise," he said. "You haven't gone to sleep yet?"

"No, I thought I could pass some time by paying you a visit."

"It's good of you to stop by. Do come in."

Bokushi closed the door behind him and padded over to his bed, letting Seijuro lift him on, shuffling next to him when he was properly situated.

"I think it would be safe to say that today was an absolute trainwreck," Bokushi deadpanned.

Seijuro laughed. "As blunt as your statement is, I agree with it one hundred percent," he replied. "There were quite the scares."

Bokushi nodded. "Indeed there were," he said. "And we managed to scrape through."

"Yes, but just barely each time."

A silence fell upon the room for a short moment before Bokushi spoke again.

"Seijuro-nii."

"Yes?"

"I haven't had the time to properly thank you yet."

Seijuro reached up a hand and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

"You don't really need to thank me for much," he said. "I'm just doing what I signed up for."

"That doesn't mean I can't thank you," said Bokushi. "If it weren't for you, I would have been kicked out of the house, left in the hands of God knows who. That is something in itself to feel accomplished about, and I thank you for protecting me."

Seijuro eyes softened at his words.

"Also," Bokushi added. "You finally were able to stand up to father, something even I haven't done yet. You proved your worth to him today and showed him you were capable of making your own decisions. Now he knows that he can't control you all the time. So because you finally were able to handle the situation without my help, I just want to say from a brother to a brother… I'm happy for you, Seijuro-nii."

Bokushi offered up a small but sincere smile which in turn made Seijuro take on an expression of surprise, remembering the last time that he saw Bokushi smile like this.

It was the Jabberwock vs. Vorpal Swords match, they were on the verge of being outmatched by the opposing team, and there was only one thing Bokushi could do.

"This is farewell."

Seijuro gaped at his other self when he made the declaration.

"What are you say—"

"You understand already…" Bokushi interjected. "Nash is strong. At this rate, we will lose. When I saw his Demon Eye, I felt shocked. But at the same time, I also saw a possibility. That maybe the Emperor Eye wasn't inferior, but from the beginning, the Emperor Eye was incomplete. The reason is simple. It's because the two of us split apart."

He locked his heterochromatic eyes with identical red.

"But I will vanish. I'll return everything to you, so you can return to being whole once more."

Seijuro's body felt numb. His throat closed up as he stared into his eyes. He wanted to speak, but his body wouldn't let him.

"I have confidence," Bokushi continued. "If your court vision used to create the perfect pass merges with the Emperor Eye that can see the future, you'll no doubt be able to gain a power equal to or greater than Nash."

Seijuro swallowed past the lump in his throat.

"…Is that the only way?" he said shakily.

Bokushi shook his head as he momentarily shut his eyes. "Don't worry, I was never meant to exist anyway. But to be able to play basketball with everyone again is the greatest gift I could ask for." When he opened his eyes, he gave Seijuro the first genuine smile he ever made in his entire existence.

"Thank you."

Seijuro reached for Bokushi's hand and tightly grasped it in his own.

"Bokushi," he said softly. "How you became an actual human being will forever be an enigma. But while you're here with me, I want you to promise me that you won't leave again."

Bokushi looked down at their hands and sighed, realizing what he was talking about.

"I know you had mixed feelings about me doing that," he said. "But it had to be done for the sake of victory. I know how much you wanted to win with everyone. I apologize for leaving. But…"

He looked up at Seijuro with reassuring eyes. "I'm not going anywhere this time."

Seijuro smiled. "I wouldn't want it any other way."

The two of them spent the night enjoying each other's company in silence, Seijuro continuing on with his novel, Bokushi peeking at the novel next to him. When it got really late, they decided to turn in, and they each said goodnight before Seijuro switched off the lights and climbed back into bed. Naturally, Bokushi was the first to clock out. When that happened, Seijuro was the only one left awake, lying in the darkness of his room while he waited for sleep to overtake him.

He turned over to look at the sleeping form of Bokushi, his chest rhythmically rising and falling with every breath. Seijuro wondered how their relationship ever took a turn for the better in the first place. When Bokushi decided to get rid of his obsession with winning and focus on team play and working together. When he stopped hurting people. When he stopped hurting himself.

Seijuro still remembered the finals of the Winter Cup, silently observing Bokushi from behind as he began to lose control of the game until he finally had enough and decided to speak up.

"You are my weakness."

Seijuro watched as Bokushi shivered under the covers and shifted closer to Seijuro, holding onto him as if to keep him in place. He smiled fondly.

Oh, Bokushi was his weakness alright…

But maybe that wasn't so bad after all.

Read and review please!