Hello, it's been a while!

Sorry, I got caught up in a lot of things in the past month so this chapter took longer than expected. I'm also visiting my family for the holidays so I've been busy since. Not to mention the fact that we have guests here and more incoming after Christmas. But anyway, that doesn't matter now.

I thank everyone who reviewed on the last chapter. I deeply appreciate your support and hope I can continue to make this an enjoyable story for you. So until the end, please bear with me! And to answer some questions...

To LittleChibi1009: The GoM will be showing up soon in the story, so do stay tuned!

To the guest Xion: Thank you so much for your review (and for calling me Author-san because I am absolutely in love with this name) and I will gladly pay for your funeral when you die over the cuteness. What flowers do you want? Also what color do you want your coffin?

Anyway, enough of my blurb. Without further ado...

Please enjoy!

Chapter 13

For the first time in his entire existence, Bokushi woke up alone.

It was morning once again. Monday morning to be precise. And it was only when Bokushi turned and saw no one next to him did he remember the event that occurred the night before. Seijuro was already back in school, and Bokushi had remained in Tokyo, awaiting his return.

As Bokushi lay there on his side, he realized how strange it was to not feel Seijuro's presence next to him, to not hear that light breathing next to him when he was sleeping, or see that mop of red unruly hair sticking out of the duvet. It was slightly difficult to get used to, considering the fact that they were always together. It was only a matter of time before this was normal to him as well.

He sat upright and stretched before sliding out of his bed and making his way to the bathroom. As he stepped in and set Yuki down on the table to look at himself in the mirror, he recalled the phone call he had with Seijuro the night before. They talked for a while, Bokushi could recall being on the phone for a good half hour. It was basically Seijuro just talking about the train ride there and other miscellaneous things in between.

The call would have been much shorter had the Uncrowned Kings not busted through Seijuro's door and flooded him with questions about his weekend until they saw he was taking a phone call. And then when Seijuro explained that he was talking to Bokushi, they took the phone from Seijuro altogether and started talking to the boy themselves.

It was relatively entertaining, talking to his former teammates like that, but Seijuro eventually had to cut the call short, since the other three were draining his phone battery. With that, they said their farewells, Seijuro promising to talk another time and Bokushi telling him not to forget.

Now, as Bokushi got ready for the day, he thought it strange to be in such silence. He wondered when he started preferring the idle conversation with Seijuro to sitting in silence like he always did in Seijuro's subconscious, or when he started wanting company instead of solitude. Even as he turned on the tap and closed the drain to gather some cold water to splash on his face, he began to wonder to himself why he was suddenly looking forward to having conversations with the older boy and why he was already thinking about what to talk about the next time that Seijuro called. Not to mention that the thought of Seijuro possibly not calling that night irritated him for some reason.

He had become more thawed in the past week than he had ever been in his five years of existence. Once the realization had hit him during the weekend, he had been bemoaning it ever since. Since when did he ever have 'feelings'? He was an emotionless superior being before, securing victory in any and all things. But after the Winter Cup, he suddenly had feelings he couldn't handle, and now they had spiraled out of control.

Bokushi had never thought of it before, but now that he thinks back to the week he spent in Kyoto, he really did seem like the perfect 'little brother' figure. (Mostly) obedient, followed Seijuro around like a puppy, called him 'Seijuro-nii', and showed at least some form of affection.

If he was still the same Bokushi from before the Winter Cup, he would have rather died than get caught doing any of those things, let alone all of them. The Bokushi from before, it was him making people obey. It was him who did the leading while the others followed. It was him making people respect him regardless of whether it was out of admiration or fear. And if there was any type of affection at all, it most certainly wouldn't be coming from him. If he hadn't changed from before, he would have thought this type of behavior pathetic and childish.

He wouldn't be wrong, in some respects. Not even his teammates, his friends, would do that. He ran to hug Seijuro in the rain last night for crying out loud. The more Bokushi thought about it, the more it sounded like something straight out of a page of Mayuzumi's light novels. And the more he thought about that…

Ugh.

"Young Master…Young Master…are you in there?" a voice said from behind the slightly open door. "Breakfast will be ready soon."

The maid pushed the door open and audibly sputtered when she saw Bokushi's face in the sink.

"Y-Young Master…what are you doing?"

Bokushi lifted his head out of the cold water and sucked in a breath. "I would appreciate you leaving me for another five minutes, Tanaka-san. I am having a crisis right now."

Without even waiting for her response, he shoved his face back underwater, trying to (quite literally) drown out his embarrassment.

I am absolutely unbelievable.

~O~

Seijuro was woken up by two things that morning: someone knocking on the door and a painfully annoying beeping noise coming from his phone. He groaned and attempted to pull himself up onto his knees, only partially succeeding and ending up with his face still on the pillow and the rest of his body arranged in a rather unbecoming position.

"Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty," Mibuchi said from behind the door. "Your alarm's been going off for five minutes now."

His hand wandered over to his phone by his bedside, grabbing it and finally silencing the device. He then put the phone down and walked (more like stumbled) over to the door, twisting it open and standing face-to-face with his teammate.

"I'm up," he said groggily.

Mibuchi laughed softly at his captain's tousled appearance.

"Good morning to you too," he said back. "Sleeping in on a Monday is quite unlike you, Sei-chan. Are you moping because you're lonely?"

Seijuro blinked slowly. "Why would I be lonely?"

"Well, you sounded so heartbroken when you hung up the phone with Boku-chan last night," Mibuchi exaggerated, making a dramatic expression. "So I assumed you were still sulking."

"I was not heartbroken," Seijuro retorted. "I think it's you who needs to wake up, Mibuchi."

"Hm? Is that so? I'm sure I wasn't," he said, pulling a wry grin. "Ah, maybe you're developing a brother-complex!"

Seijuro's eyebrow twitched in agitation. "Mibuchi. I'm doubling your training menu today."

"Eh?"

He slammed the door in Mibuchi's face.

~O~

Bokushi had finished breakfast already and was zipping up his coat as he made his way down the stairs. The driver was going to take him shopping today. Since he was going to live here, and he had only brought a week's worth of clothes, it would be best if he were to buy some more. He expected that they were going to spend a lot of money this morning. May his father's bank account rest in peace.

He reached the bottom of the stairs and found the driver waiting by the door. He gave a small smile when he saw the boy approach him.

"Are you ready, Young Master?"

Bokushi nodded. "Of course."

With that, the two of them exited the house and went out to the black car that was sitting in the driveway, the driver opening the door for Bokushi and then getting in afterward. Once the car was started, the driver pulled away from the house and out of sight.

The drive was expected to be quiet, because even when Bokushi was sharing a body with Seijuro, it didn't matter which one of them had taken over, there were never many conversations that went on between them and the driver. But today seemed to be different because as Bokushi leaned against the car door and stared out the window, the driver looked at him through the rearview mirror and smiled.

"How are you finding the current living arrangements, Young Master?"

Bokushi tore his eyes away from the window and looked back at the driver through the mirror.

"The same as always," he replied. "The house is exactly like I remembered, Shimizu-san."

"I see," said the driver. "Are you enjoying your time back at the house? It doesn't become boring?"

"No," said Bokushi. "I always find a way to be entertained."

"That's good. I would have thought that you would lose interest after Young Master Seijuro left."

"While it is true I'm more likely to do something productive while he's around instead of vegetating with a book, I can still find things to do by myself."

"Excellent."

Bokushi narrowed his eyes the slightest bit at the driver. He was awfully chatty with Bokushi all of a sudden. Even on a good day, they never continuously talked like this. Maybe one question every ten minutes, but not every two seconds. Something was strange about the driver's behavior today, and while Bokushi didn't think it polite to ask, he wanted to know the answer.

"You seem to be very interested in me, Shimizu-san. Why is that?"

The driver chuckled softly. "My apologies if I'm being overbearing, Young Master. It's just that with this strange phenomenon that occurred for you to be here… it piques my interest a bit. Ever since you showed up at the house on Friday, it has surely caused an uproar."

"I'll say," Bokushi muttered, remembering that dumpster fire of a day in vivid detail. "A lot of things happened, and my presence almost single-handedly caused the destruction of the family. But from that day, I believe both parties took away something valuable."

"I think so, too. Young Master Seijuro seems very keen on keeping you."

"I can't blame him," said Bokushi. "We've been together for a long time."

"I could tell," said the driver. "You two share an immensely close bond. Young Master Seijuro seems so much happier these days. He's as happy as he was when…ah… never mind."

The driver looked like he was reminiscing about something. Bokushi may have returned the Emperor Eye to Seijuro, but he could still predict what the driver was going to say.

He's as happy as he was when their mother was alive.

He noticed the smiles Seijuro gave him nowadays. The type of smiles you'd see in passing in an old portrait of the Akashi family, forever preserved in the past along with that familiar yet distant woman. It wasn't difficult to see that Seijuro was no longer stiff and tense at home with his lips pursed into a thin line. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, he was relaxed and calm. Most importantly, he was smiling again. That in itself spoke volumes to not just him, but the staff as well at how much things had changed.

"He is much happier than before," said Bokushi. Even before Seijuro switched personalities that fateful day two years ago, he wasn't necessarily happy. At school, he was the same mild-mannered polite student everyone on the team saw him as, but he had more anxiety than anyone could ever imagine. Seijuro had such a huge burden to uphold. Perfect grades, perfect behavior, and perfect performance in any and every extracurricular activity he participated in, especially basketball.

Basketball was the one extracurricular he would never give up. He'd sooner quit anything else. If his father told him to stop playing the violin, he would. If his father told him to throw away his shogi board, he would. But if his father told him to quit basketball, he'd have to get ready for a fight.

While Bokushi didn't outright show it, he loved basketball every bit as much as Seijuro, and if his father had to physically drag him off the basketball court to make him stop playing, then so be it. And he could be damn sure that the boy would kick and scream all the way to the car.

Whether it was Seijuro or Bokushi, both of them worked themselves to the ground to uphold that victory in basketball, so their father wouldn't find a reason for them to quit. This was what eventually led to their downspiral into borderline insanity. Seijuro was happy playing basketball, yes. But he wasn't happy with the pressure of victory nagging him every time one of his teammates messed up during a game, or when he wasn't making enough progress during training, or when, one by one, all the Generation of Miracle's talents began to blossom and they started to leave him behind. Inside, he was suffering.

Even after his loss at the Winter Cup, he wasn't necessarily happy. He was happy for Kuroko and his team, but as for himself, all he was doing was dreading going back to his house.

Once he was back home and he and his father sat down to dinner, naturally, he asked about the game. It took Seijuro all he had not to crack under pressure, taking a deep breath to calmly tell his father that he had placed second, and his own team had lost in the final round. Mibuchi, who was concerned enough to call him the next day on behalf of the team to ask if he was alright, inquired to Seijuro how his father took the loss. "He seemed disappointed" is what he remembered Seijuro saying, the keyword being "seemed".

As soon as he said he had lost, his father had initially said nothing. Absolutely nothing. That unsettled Seijuro more than anything. He felt himself getting more nauseous than ever before, his stomach twisting and turning into knots and his heart beating insanely fast as every second passed by. He took a deep breath and momentarily shut his eyes in anticipation, bracing himself for the tongue-lashing he expected to come, but it never came. His father picked up his fork and knife like his son never said anything and continued with his dinner.

"I see," was the only reply his father gave.

Seijuro had stared at the man in complete disbelief and shock, struck dumb by his father's words. He was more surprised than he could ever imagine that his father didn't immediately begin to yell at him, tell him off, or do something. Instead, he let the matter pass by unaddressed, and Seijuro lay awake in bed for hours on end that night, wondering if his father had finally lost his mind.

The healing process after that was a bit slow. Obviously, he couldn't get over his first loss overnight, he had to recuperate for a few days, but all of his teammates, former and current, not to mention everyone in between, seemed okay with Seijuro. After all that happened, he still had his friends, and now, he had his friends and Bokushi. For that, he was happy.

Maybe one day, Bokushi thought, father might come back into that picture.

"Shimizu-san."

"Yes, Young Master?"

"What does father think of me now?"

The driver frowned slightly. "What do you mean by that, Young Master?"

"You've noticed it by now, haven't you?" Bokushi asked him. "He's different. Ever since Friday, his demeanor has become much less threatening. Something's off about him but I can't put my finger on it."

The man behind the steering wheel paused. "You're most definitely not wrong, Young Master," he said. "I, too, noticed your father's change after Friday. I think he is just coming to terms with you. It has been a while since there was a child in the house."

"I figured just as much," Bokushi responded. "But that couldn't be the only reason, could it?"

The driver hummed. "I think that your father is actually intrigued by you."

Bokushi raised his eyebrows. "Intrigued?"

"Yes, intrigued," the driver answered. "You're one of the only ones that could make Young Master Seijuro behave the way he did to your father. He must have realized how special you are to him, and because of this, he would like to know more about this mysterious child who has suddenly changed his older son's attitude."

Bokushi's gaze lowered to his seat in front of him in thought. "I never thought about it like that," he said.

The driver gave him an encouraging smile through the mirror. "Give him time, I'm sure Akashi-sama will accept you into the family. He may be a terrifying man, but he still does have a heart, Young Master."

"...Alright."

The two of them sat in silence for a few moments as the driver focused his attention back on the road.

"…Don't tell your father I called him terrifying, though. I quite like this job."

"My lips are sealed, Shimizu-san."

…

Seijuro blinked lazily as he sat in class listening to his teacher go on about an upcoming test. Sometimes if no one stops him from doing too much work, he ends up being far ahead of his classes and ends up sitting like this: bored out of his mind and showing up to class simply for the sake of his attendance record.

He sighed as he began to stare out the window. There was still basketball practice, which he was waiting for, and there most definitely were going to be assignments given out today with a ridiculously short amount of time given to do them. Not that he cared, because regardless of how close a deadline, he would be able to finish virtually anything, even if it meant he wouldn't sleep that night, but he did hope he would be able to make time to call home.

Call home? Ha! Now there was a new thought. Calling home was something Seijuro never hoped for. In fact, if it were possible, most of the time he hoped he could call even less than he usually did.

He limited the contact he had with his father because honestly, a phone call with that man for more than five minutes made Seijuro feel nauseous. Even face-to-face they didn't even talk for that long. The last time Seijuro remembered talking with his father for that long he was in trouble. For what, even Seijuro himself couldn't remember, but either way, for the longest time, Seijuro dreaded having to call home knowing that it would just end up being a stilted conversation with his father. It just seemed like an obligatory chore. But now, he actually wanted to talk to his family. It was strange how quickly he changed his mentality.

As the teacher was wrapping up the current lesson, Seijuro continued to plan out the rest of his day in his head. There was practice from five to seven, and then he'd go back to shower and eat, and then there was schoolwork. Now he had two options, either finish all of his work and then call, or pause halfway, call, and then continue. If he chose the former, Bokushi may have already gone to sleep by the time he finished his work, so the latter it was.

He wondered what the boy was up to, if he was bored, or if he was out of the house. He could always ask him about his day later. Seijuro didn't know when Bokushi started occupying most of his thoughts, or why for that matter. Even Midorima, who had Miyoko to look after, probably didn't think about her this often. Suddenly he heard Mibuchi's voice in the back of his mind.

"Ah, maybe you're developing a brother-complex!"

A vein popped in Seijuro's forehead as he closed his books.

I most certainly am not. I don't think about Bokushi that often, he thought to himself in irritation, standing up to leave the classroom for morning break. He paused halfway out of the classroom and furrowed his eyebrows in thought.

…Or do I?

~O~

"What do you think?"

"I think it suits you well, Young Master."

The driver sat on a chair as Bokushi came out of the dressing room in the clothing store with a dark blue jumper on. The young boy looked at himself in the mirror, twisting and turning each way to fully examine the article of clothing on his body.

"Should I get this one or the black one, Shimizu-san?"

The man hummed in thought. "Well, it is always nice to have a splash of color in your wardrobe, Young Master."

"Hmm…that's true," Bokushi murmured. "Black would be too depressing. Perhaps I should get this one after all."

"Blue is an excellent choice, Young Master."

"Ah, but," Bokushi hesitated on his decision. "Black is a very flexible color to use. It does go with everything."

"Then you should get the black one if you prefer it," the driver responded.

Bokushi thought for another moment. "Yes. I should get black after all."

He removed the blue jumper and went to go put it back but then stopped in place, looking down at the jumper he was holding.

"Blue is a nice color, though…"

"Then would you prefer the blue instead?"

Bokushi visibly faltered, but after a few seconds, he shook his head. "No. It's fine, I'll take the black one."

The driver watched him leave to go put it on the rack, but then he came straight back still clutching the jumper with a serious expression on his face. "As I thought, I can't decide between the two of them," he sighed. "I must get both."

The driver nodded, amused by the ordeal. "If that is what you wish, Young Master."

They walked down to the other section of the store the man pushing the shopping cart in silence until Bokushi decided to speak again.

"Now that I think about it, I've never seen you in anything other than a suit, Shimizu-san. What is your taste in clothing?"

"Ah, it's nothing special, sorry to disappoint," the man said with a nervous laugh. "Most days I'm wearing polos with slacks and a pullover."

"Well, I'm quite similar to you in that sense of wearing different versions of the same thing."

"Really? I had no idea."

"Yes. For some strange reason, I always end up wearing a collared dress shirt. It doesn't matter what I wear. If I'm wearing a cardigan it's paired with a dress shirt. If I'm wearing a vest, it has to be with a dress shirt. In the summertime, even if I wear shorts, it's with a short-sleeved dress shirt."

"Ah yes, but you're still in your youth, Young Master," the driver said. "I'm sure with your creativity you would have no problem figuring out various outfit combinations. When you get older, you begin to care less about your appearance."

"I heard when you hit your mid-life crisis you begin to care again, though."

"Ah, well, I must not have hit mine yet, then."

"I should think I'll always care about what I am wearing," Bokushi said as he sorted through a rack of shirts.

"I would think so," the driver responded. "Your father was always emphasizing the importance of good impressions."

"In fact, now that you mention it, I've never seen him dress casually either," Bokushi said, furrowing his eyebrows at the thought of his father in something other than a suit.

"Neither have I, actually," the driver said. "Your father seems to be the type of person who prefers to dress the way he does, anyway."

"So it seems. One day he should take some time off and shop for casuals."

The driver chuckled. "Will you be the one to take him shopping, Young Master?"

Bokushi actually considered the answer to his question.

"If we even get to that level of closeness, that is…" He mumbled, shrugging at the end of his sentence. "Perhaps one day. Maybe I should take you shopping as well, Shimizu-san."

The driver gave him a wry grin. "It would be my honor to accept your invitation, Young Master."

Both of them ended up spending quite a lot of time at the store. As Seijuro had told them, Bokushi really was rather picky with clothing. The staff thought he was just exaggerating, but Bokushi was extremely critical about what he wanted to buy. Only the most sophisticated clothes went into the cart. It seemed he wanted to be the best-dressed child in Japan, apparently.

During this time, however, it also gave the driver and Bokushi time to talk about many things. Mainly Bokushi's experiences, in which the driver would listen and add his own two cents, but their conversations had taken on a pleasant tone. They talked about the weather, books, music, and everything in between; so much so that they talked throughout the entire outing. Usually, Bokushi was not a talkative person at all, his preference being to keep his thoughts to himself. But he found all of their talks engaging and enjoyable, and it was better knowing that someone was around to listen.

By the time they had come back from their outing, they were like old friends. A maid passing by the front door saw the contented looks on their faces when they came back and smiled.

"What's this? Did you have a good time out shopping?"

The driver and Bokushi shared a look and turned back to the maid.

"Yes, yes we did," they said in unison.

…

After shopping, Bokushi spent the remainder of the afternoon, talking with the driver. The boy wondered why he had never talked with him like this before, the man proved to be very interesting, and he was willing to listen to whatever Bokushi had to say.

Later on, they even ended up playing a game of shogi, and even though Bokushi destroyed him, the way the man accepted defeat made him the real champion. It wasn't until evening when it was dinner time and the driver was conveniently requested to run some last-minute errands to pick up some dry cleaning that he finally bid farewell to Bokushi, promising a rematch when he was next available.

Meanwhile, Bokushi went to the dinner table when a maid called him over and he sat down as the butler began to serve the food. He felt slightly uneasy sitting there, however. This was because this would be his first dinner with his father without Seijuro.

Technically, back when he took over in Teiko, he had dinner with his father all the time, but that was under the assumption that his father didn't know about Seijuro's second personality. Now, his father knew who he was, he knew what he was, and Bokushi was still stumped over what his father thought of him currently.

He stopped his pondering when he heard footsteps approach the dining room, looking up to see who had come in. It was Masaomi, just finishing whatever work he was doing in his study upstairs. He came into the room, sitting across from Bokushi.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear.

"Good evening, father," Bokushi greeted.

Masaomi nodded. "Good evening," he said back as the butler served him next.

They began to eat in silence, no sound being heard in the room except for the clink of cutlery on the plates. Bokushi thought about what the driver said to him that morning. Was his father really that interested in him? That was odd, even for him.

Masaomi was the one person Bokushi could never tell what he was thinking. He was always a mystery of a man to him, and predicting what he'd do next was nearly impossible. Bokushi wanted to see if the driver's theory was correct, though. He would test the waters first.

"How was your day, father?"

If the man was surprised at the question, he expertly hid it and took a sip of his water before putting his glass down on the table.

"It was fine," he replied. "I've been doing work in my office most of the day."

"I see."

So, he was interested enough to humor him and answer the question, regardless of the fact that neither he nor Seijuro had ever asked their father about their day since their father disliked being disturbed while he was eating. That was something. But what Bokushi didn't expect was what his father said next.

"And yours?"

The boy dared to quirk a brow and stare at his father in bewilderment.

"Pardon?"

"Your day," Masaomi clarified. "I am asking how it was."

Bokushi stared at his father wide-eyed and mouth slightly ajar. This was beyond weird. Since when did his father ever care to hear about anything other than his grades, or his progress in his extracurricular activities? Never did he concern himself with something so insignificant to his life such as how someone else's day was. The fact that his father was bothered enough to ask was enough to rock Bokushi straight to his core. Even still, Bokushi had to blink himself out of his trance.

Right, the question.

"My day was fine, thank you," he answered smoothly, recovering from his state of shock. "I went shopping with Shimizu-san."

"Of course. It is to my knowledge that you were buying clothes," Masaomi continued. "I take it you were able to find everything you needed?"

"Yes. After our outing, we played a few games of shogi."

"Is that so? Am I correct in assuming you won?"

"Yes, you would, father. Shogi is my specialty."

Masaomi's eyebrows lifted ever so slightly as he nodded in understanding. "Hmph. As expected of an Akashi."

As expected of an Akashi, huh?

Normally, that phrase carried so much weight when his father said it. Of course, the way his father said it just then sounded no different from the way he always did, but it seemed like he was trying to say it jokingly, almost in a playful manner. Bokushi had no proof that this was true, but his father seemed different tonight. His father had already gone back to his food and continued to eat in silence, though, leaving Bokushi to stare at him with narrowed eyes from across the table.

What a strange occurrence this was.

~O~

"Alright, practice is over, everyone!"

"Yes, captain!"

It was finally seven o'clock and Seijuro had dismissed the team when practice had ended. Once everyone had begun to put the balls away and the gymnasium floor was cleaned, Seijuro walked over to his sports bag and started to pack away his things.

Now that practice was finally finished, he could think about the rest of the night ahead. The teachers happened to be lenient on this day, so he didn't have that much work to do. He could clear that out of the way and then that left the rest of the night to call home and then look over the schedule for tomorrow's practice. He was just about to leave when he heard someone calling him.

"Sei-chan!"

Seijuro turned around and saw the three Uncrowned Kings coming toward him.

"Ah, you three. Is there something you need?"

"We were just heading back to the dorms and saw you heading out anyway," said Hayama. "Wanna walk with us?"

Seijuro offered a small smile. "Sure," he said.

The four of them exited the gymnasium and began heading toward the dorms, their pace slow.

"So, where were you rushing off to so soon?" Hayama asked.

"Rushing off?" Seijuro repeated.

"Yeah," said Nebuya. "You usually stay behind to at least chat for a few minutes."

"Is there something important you had to take care of?" Mibuchi questioned.

"Well, it's not that important," Seijuro said slowly, glancing off to the side. "I was just hoping to finish my work early so I could have time to check up on Bokushi."

"Huh, you sure do think about him a lot," said Nebuya.

Seijuro blinked. "You think so?"

"Know so is more like it, Sei-chan," Mibuchi said with a laugh. "Even at lunch today, our conversation somehow ended up being about Boku-chan. You think about him more than you're willing to admit."

"I suppose…" Seijuro said, trailing off at the realization.

"It's not a bad thing," Mibuchi added. "Thinking about siblings is completely normal."

"Do any of you three have siblings?"

"Well, I'm an only child, but the other two have siblings, don't they?"

"Yeah, two sisters," said Hayama. "They're older, though. But they do worry a lot about me."

"For good reason," Mibuchi quipped. "With your erratic behavior, your sisters probably have to be prepared for a worst-case scenario."

"I'm the youngest in my family too," said Nebuya. "I've got three older brothers. I used to get into a lot of trouble when I was a kid so they always used to check up on me to make sure I wasn't doing anything I wasn't supposed to be."

"Ehhh, your siblings sound pretty responsible," Hayama said in awe.

"Yeah," Mibuchi chimed. "What happened to you?"

"I'll seriously punch the both of you," Nebuya grumbled, folding his arms and glaring daggers at the third-years.

"Boku-chan isn't like either of these two, so you won't need to check up on him so often," Mibuchi assured Seijuro.

"I know I don't really need to check up on him," said Seijuro. "But I just want to make sure he's alright. He doesn't have that many people to talk to at home, you know."

"I'm sure he's fine. If it were that bad, he would have called."

Just then, Seijuro's phone began to ring and he fished it out of his pocket to find his house number on the Caller ID. He frowned, wondering why someone from the house could possibly need him until he pressed the answer button and put the phone up to his ear.

"Hello?"

"Seijuro-nii."

"Bokushi?" Seijuro said in surprise, as the other three exchanged looks and began talking amongst themselves. "I was just about to call in a few minutes. Is something the matter?"

He heard the boy inhale deeply on the other line. "I think our father has been replaced with a look-alike from an alternate universe."

The silence that followed after Bokushi's apparently serious statement seemed to last a lifetime. Seijuro continued to stare into space, eyebrows furrowed as if he were in a trance, trying to register what his younger brother just said to him.

"Bokushi, with all due respect, if you want to tell a joke, you're going to have to try harder than that."

"I can assure you that I am absolutely serious."

"Are you feeling unwell? I'm sure you know where the medicine cabinet is—"

"Don't patronize me, I'm not sick!" Bokushi growled. "He asked me about my day today at dinner."

Seijuro was genuinely surprised. "That is strange," he mumbled to himself. Most of the time, especially when he was younger, if he decided to talk about something miscellaneous at the dinner table, he would be reprimanded by his father for being distracted from his food. "He barely even talks on his good days."

"Which is precisely why I'm confused," Bokushi responded. "Do you think something happened?"

"Nothing that I am aware of," Seijuro admitted. "But, if he talks to you again, do tell me."

Part of Seijuro was telling him that he should most probably panic at their father's strange behavior. Yet the other part was indefinitely and irrevocably curious, curious to see how much this situation was affecting their father. The way it seemed, his father wasn't as unfazed as he originally assumed. But he would have to put this aside for a later time. He was supposed to check up on Bokushi, not get the latest gossip on family members.

"Going back to your day, how was it? Did you go shopping?"

"Yes I did," said Bokushi. "Shimizu-san is a very interesting man to talk to. He also assisted in picking out some clothes."

Seijuro hummed. "Is that so? I'm glad you weren't bored. Did you talk about anything interesting?"

"We spoke about a lot of things," said Bokushi. "He's good company."

"The staff are all good people. They're always there to talk if you need to. That being said, try talking to the others. I'm sure they'll be delighted to have a conversation."

"I will try that." A door opened on the other line and Bokushi audibly perked up at the sound.

"That might be Shimizu-san. I must have another shogi rematch before he leaves. I apologize for cutting the call short."

"Oh, no, don't let me hold you back. I just wanted to check if you were okay."

"Alright." There was a pause. "Will you be calling tomorrow?"

Seijuro smiled. "Don't worry, I will. Goodbye now."

"Mm. Goodbye, Seijuro-nii." The line cut and Seijuro put his phone back in his pocket before walking faster to catch up to the other three, the smile never leaving his face.

Good to hear he's having fun.

I thank you for waiting so long! It really did seem like I was going to end the story in chapter 12 so I apologize for any confusion I may have caused. I'll try in the next week or so to get started on chapter 14, but don't be alarmed if I take a while. Anyway, stay tuned for next time and for anyone who celebrates, I hope you have a lovely Christmas! As for everyone else, Happy Holidays! Until my next update you know what to do...

Read and review please!