It was one beautiful morning, with the ray of sunlight illuminating Akashi Seijuro's room. Birds were chirping outside, as the echoes of the hardworking staff in the house accompanied it, a mark of the usual busy and early day.

The scarlet pupils revealed itself, adjusting at the brightness of the room.

Sasazaki-san, a middle-aged man, his personal butler, would always be the first person he'd see, offering a smile and following it with a greeting of how good the morning was.

By then, he would sat up as Sasazaki mentioned his schedule for the day. After some time, he would proceed to changing the sleeping clothes in a casual one.

As far as Akashi Seijuro remembered, this was how he used to begin his daily life.

However, before he could actually start the day and proceed to fulfill his long list of duties, he would always see his mother firsthand.

Reaching the end of the staircase, he was welcomed by the fresh scent of red roses scattered every corner of the mansion. His mother had changed everything in the vases again. More than a habit, it seemed like her tradition everyday.

As if on cue, wind blew from the opened sliding door. White curtains danced and flopped freely, his eyesight was called at the living room where he heard a soft voice humming a gentle la la la la.

He went and stood quietly behind a woman who was creating the sound.

Disrupting her never crossed his mind as he wanted to hear more.

Indeed, this gentle lullaby in the morning—with the scent of roses amidst her presence, was what made the morning pleasant every time.

Like the usual, he stayed in his position, admiring the sight quietly.

Her feet stomping from time to time at the pedal under the piano, while her hands seemed to be scribbling the notes upon the black and white bars of the massive and elegant black instrument.

He walked forward a little, stopping behind a tall indoor plant to hide his presence. His hands crept its way behind him, twiddling fingers on and on, while being captivated with the sound created by his mother. This was how morning had always been like, refreshing from the eyes, soothing in the ears. The air was so gentle against his body.

Until suddenly, the music stopped. The pianist was nowhere near the closing note so why did she stop, he wondered.

Her hair bounced as she lifted her head. Even without turning, she seemed to be aware of her little and quiet audience from the beginning.

"You're awake, Seijuro? Good morning."

The boy instantly inched up the sides of his lips as he dashed to her spot, eager to see her smiling face. "Good morning, Mother." His cheeks emitted the same color of her hair. The kid couldn't think what a beautiful morning would be if not this.

He was ready to jump for a hug or accept a pat in the head when he suddenly noticed the peculiarity in her figure.

There was a sudden accumulation of fog hovering over her face. He couldn't see clearly. More importantly, why would there be a fog inside the mansion?

He slowed down, raised a hand and attempted to break the cloud-like matter that was blocking her image.

"Mother?" He tried reaching for her face. Then, in less than a second, she suddenly disappeared. How could that be possible?

He was confused.

Instantly, the curtains beside stopped swaying. The outside scenery became different. Instead of birds chirping, he was hearing nothing. From the window, he could see how the bright azure sky turned dull and clouded.

For some reason, it was eerily quiet. He couldn't figure out what was going on. One moment, there was a soothing hum everywhere, and then suddenly, it was gone.

He stepped backward, bewildered. More than anything else, his mother vanishing wasn't making any sense.

"What are you doing?" a voice came in, familiar, yet he couldn't make an image out of the person's face. He felt like its owner had always been there but at the same time not.

Just like that person—his father.

The kid couldn't make a question. All he did was stare.

The man was wearing a black suit, towering him with his shadow.

Strange, Seijuro thought.

He shifted his eyes around, the scenery had gotten more different. He remembered being in the living room, so how did he manage to be inside the office of his father all of a sudden? It was like every blink he made, something would change. The piano became bookshelves, the music sheets became piles of paper and the windows were gone, even the scent of red roses disappeared. A voice wanted to come out, wanting to produce a word of such—'Father? What is going on? Where is Mother?'

"You're not supposed to be here." The voice was deep and uncomfortable. Like a loop, it kept echoing on and on.

In its way, it was deafening, a total opposite of the sweet tune that his mother was so good at.

"….."

"Why are you wasting your time standing there?"

"….."

"Shouldn't you be studying?"

"….."

The question came flooding. It made him doubt if his father even wanted an answer. He couldn't bring his self to provide a short greeting.

His teeth in the inside gritted though he remained calm in the outside.

Seijuro looked around the place again. The vases were empty. There were no sign of the red roses. The boy refused to accept what he was seeing and strived to find at least one petal that used to compliment the hair color of his mother. But nothing was found, as if it never existed.

Right, if he looked behind, his mother would be there, as always. For sure she'd be smiling and waiting.

Unfortunately there was no one.

Since when did it become like this?

He made another turn and like a change of scenery in a movie, it was quick and natural. In his sight was a view he knew he had seen before. There were flowers. And – ah finally, there were the red roses. Then, at the center of those flowers was the picture of the person he yearned to see.

It was his mother, smiling in the portrait like how he remembered. It was the face and the smile he expected to see earlier. Likewise, it was the one he used to see every morning, the reason why morning was delightful, the reason why he could go on, the very reason why he wouldn't mind looking back.

What was it doing there? Why was her picture there?

His mind knew the answer but refused to admit it.

—Because she is dead.

He snapped. There was a voice he knew and oddly recognized.

It was his own voice.

Realizing that, he promptly found his self in void, with nothing but white noise. The surroundings were pitched black. Suddenly, he was on his own, trapped in a seemingly distant place where nothing could escape.

—Welcome.

Seijuro blinked, there it was again. He touched his mouth. He wasn't speaking yet he could hear it—his voice.

'W-Who are you?'

—What a silly question.

'….'

—I am you.

'What?'

Then, there was a sigh.

—Didn't I just tell you?'

'?'

—You still haven't accepted it. You really like Mother that much...

It was only natural that he would.

'Certainly... I do...'

—I understand, me too. I do, still think of her.

Despite saying that, the voice didn't seem empathetic, rather, it sounded distant and unconcerned.

—Then, what about Father?'

'...'

'...'

Everything was confusing. He couldn't understand why his voice was speaking as if it had its own consciousness.

Nevertheless, towards his father, similarly, it was only a matter of fact that he liked that person too, regardless of what that person had and had not done.

'I... '

—Such a long pause. You're quite hesitant, aren't you?'

—I know, it's because he's like that, isn't he? He's unreasonably strict. He says whatever he wants—does whatever he wants. He only cares about his self and the company. I wonder, did he even mourn when Mother died? Ahhh... doesn't that make you... well... it doesn't matter, right?

'That's not true. Father is—'

—Haa…

—My head aches... just by listening to you.

—Empathy and compassion… Do you really have the time for these useless emotions?

—How disappointing... You—no, I... can do better than that.

He frowned, not following the point of this conversation anymore. Despite that, he was shaky at what the voice was spouting.

—You'll see...

The freezing sensation suddenly disappeared. He woke up with a heavy breath.

"Hmm. Seijuro-sama?" Immediately, a worried voice was the first thing he heard. He opened his eyes and saw an almost spitting image of his previous butler. "Sasazaki?"

Hotaru raised her brows as she stopped hovering upon his sight. There was a small towel on her hand as she moved away. "How unusual of Seijuro-sama to call me by that."

What?

He blinked and immediately recognized the familiarity of the ceiling. His reality. Right, the other man he used to see first—Sasazaki-san, was long gone and this girl who came a few months ago was the replacement.

"Or were you referring to my father? Did you dream of him?" she asked.

Seijuro sat up, his brain somehow lagged for a moment there upon waking up.

Dream? Indeed, it must be just a dream. It must be the reason for the heavy sensation he felt the moment he woke up.

Seijuro glanced at her.

"So it wasn't a nightmare after all." The girl smiled and leaned forward, almost zooming her face on him again.

He frowned at their close proximity before pulling his head back. "What are you talking about?"

"Well you're sweating hard. I thought you were having a bad dream. Though I tried to wake you up by calling your name, still you won't budge." she cocked her head. "But you saw my father right? Even if it's a dream I know he won't harm you so it can't be a nightmare."

Surely, he felt the cold sweats but to believe it was a nightmare just because of that would be foolish. After all, he couldn't remember it all. He couldn't think of what else he saw except the image of his previous butler and how his morning used to be like. Somehow, he realized one thing. Gone were the days when he was so fond of every morning. Nevertheless, he wasn't feeling sad anymore but neither happy.

"...Is that so?"

His attention went back to the girl beside him.

Sasazaki Hotaru...

The first time they met, he remembered her having the same eyes as him—empty and mourning. It contradicted the life in her voice.

Whether he liked her or not was never a subject of questioning for him. Back then, he only viewed her as a mere replacement. Regardless, he wondered what his father was thinking, putting Sasazaki's daughter in this job, a kid of the same age as him?

"Ah! Good morning Seijuro-sama." She beamed suddenly, before mumbling "I almost forgot" . Aoyama-san told her to greet the heir first thing in the morning every day—properly. She crawled her way out of the bed to fix herself upon his sight. It was quite late but she did it anyway.

Akashi glanced at her from the corner of his eyes as he reached out for the slippers placed on the floor beside the bed. She was like a typical kid, clumsy and graceless.

There was no denying how she was still lacking in so many areas, but there was nothing he could do. She was appointed by his father after all.

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Days passed by without noticing when exactly they started talking to each other. She seemed to be curious all the time, always standing behind, peeking at whatever he was doing.

'What are you doing?'

'Why are you doing that?'

'Why won't you take a rest?'

'How about we play?'

The more she asked, the more she was being driven into his mind, as if he was starting to become accustomed to her presence and noise. Sometimes, he'd find his self answering, other times, questioning.

'Why do you ask?'

'Why can't you understand?'

'We're not the same.'

'It doesn't work that way.'

'Father won't allow it.'

Days turned into months, at this point, he could say, he could no longer ignore or pretend that she didn't exist. He couldn't even be annoyed as it would only be a waste of time. He'd just use it as a practice to strengthen his patience.

Then, before he realized, a year had passed. Being together most of the time, the ice had melted, the walls somehow broke into pieces. Now, there was something to think about other than the past. Somehow, the lonely child was no longer alone.

Her audacity to ask him to teach her the piano was commendable. Nevertheless, he did it to take his mind away from all the memories that haunted him.

Time flew so fast for the two of them. The sense of togetherness, like having a friend for the first time was actually fun. He didn't know that having someone to talk to, someone to share stories with, someone to play with, would be fun.

'I joined the basketball club.' He didn't know why, but during middle school, when he took the opportunity of pursuing something that brought him fun, she was the first person he informed about it.

'Oh? Wow!'

How genuine.

To be praised by people was normal but despite that, he could always sense the insincerity behind. Most people were merely saying it for the sake of it.

But this girl, her reaction was true. She clasped her hand in delight then after a few seconds, she frowned, as if a realization came into her. "So you're also good in basketball? I see, You're too perfect. It's kinda unfair."

That was some transparent honesty, he thought. Did she forget her position? Of all people, she should be the one feeding him praises. Negative words must be filtered. Yet, she didn't.

"Ha—well, you don't know how to trim grasses though." She grinned.

Perhaps it was a joke? He wondered, was the thought of him not excelling on something she was good at supposed to make him feel bad? Contrary to others who viewed him as the epitome of perfection, this girl was the only one reminding him that he was, after all, just a human liable of flaws.

He wasn't making up this thought inside his mind, was he? Someone was actually treating him normally. Somehow, it felt comfortable.

She seemed to be gaining a way to his soul, but realizing that felt terrifying. There was something inside him that wanted to reject and contradict everything. It was useless, unnecessary, rubbish; connecting with others was a stupid thing to do. Care too much and they would take you for granted. Love too much and they would leave you. Disappointments were inevitable once you cherish someone's presence. But at the same time, he didn't want to lose this feeling, of being connected to someone.

—And this is why you're so weak.

He snapped. It had been some time since he started hearing voices that were strangely similar to his.

Like her presence, that voice became a reoccurring entity in his life.

And similarly, he tried to ignore it at first but it was getting stronger everyday that one time he found his self answering.

"Stop talking."

The voice was becoming louder. How long could he resist before it suffocates him?

Until it happened.

"You're now the captain."

"Games have gotten boring lately."

"It's okay if you don't attend the practice anymore."

"Ah I don't want to play as well."

"It's four to zero now! Akashi is in trouble?!"

Akashi will, for the first time… lose…?

To experience something he never knew since the day he was born…

Defeat?

What is defeat?

"Huh is that all? I thought you'd be harder to beat… guess that's it?"

"What did you say? It's true that the captain isn't always the strongest—"

—Ah… what is it? Are they all going up against you now?'

—Despite your effort… Despite your attempt to put them together…

—You cannot do it. You're incapable of leading them.

—Didn't I tell you? Compassion… it won't get you anywhere.

—If you badly want things to stay as they are, you must use force…

—Right?

'Silence.'

—Until when can you resist?

—You can't do it. But... I can.

'Stop.'

—You will lose.

—I wonder if they would still obey you if you lose. Perhaps they would all leave.

—Ahh what a shame…

—Father wouldn't like it… too...not at all.

'Dont speak!'

—And that girl... won't she think how fool you have been thinking you could do this?

'I… Akashi Seijuro…will lose? It's impossible.'

—Losers are denied… isn't that right?

'...Losers are denied.'

—and better off gone.

'No... I won't allow that…'

—Can you?

"Just one point and Mukkun would win."

—How miserable you are right now. Shall I take over for you?

He felt a hand so cold tapped against his eyes, forcing it close. He wanted to say something but his mouth won't open. Sooner, he felt his self dragged into the unknown.

Until all of a sudden, he was surrounded by nothing but darkness. It made him numb as the voice got louder and louder.

—How about you sleep for a while?

He wanted to move, hold on to something or someone so he could escape.

But there was nothing.

That's right, there was nothing in the first place.

Slowly, the redhead loosened his hand and surrendered.

Had he held on, would he find that sacred place of tranquility?

Guess that won't matter anymore.

After all, winning is everything in this world. The voice was right.

'...Who are you again?'

—I told you. I am you and—

"—I, who wins everything, is always right."

"…."

"…."

"Hey what just happened?"

Everyone in the court was bewildered and terrified at the sudden change of aura around their captain, as if he suddenly turned into a different person. Instantly, Akashi countered Murasakibara's offense. The ball ended up in his possession.

"You're pushing your luck, Atsushi. Don't make me so angry." His eyes had turned cold and strange. It was enough to send chills to his opponent. A sensation Murasakibara had not known was given to him unexpectedly, he was left frozen and unsteady on his spot.

"I never forgive those who defy me, not even my parents."

With that, the tables had turned in favor of Akashi.

The taller player turned on his back in exasperation. "I'm out. It's fine as long as I attend practice right?"

"About that, it's fine." Akashi called, "Do whatever you want, just keep winning our matches."

"Huh?"

The attitude of their captain was not making any sense. It contradicted his usual self. Nevertheless, the atmosphere had gotten abnormal. Everyone in the gymnasium couldn't say anything. Even after Akashi left, they were all left puzzled with what happened.

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As soon as Akashi Seijuro reached the entrance door of their residence, a girl with the usual widened smile greeted him. By the looks of her, she probably had been there and waiting for his arrival for a while, like always.

"Welcome back Seijuro-sama." she beamed joyfully.

"Hotaru" He called.

"Ye-"

Her eyes froze, recognizing the difference in his mismatched eyes. Gradually, the smile faded from her face.

He blinked.

She quickly shook her head. What was she thinking? For a second there, she thought he was someone else. There was no way. He wouldn't be here if ever.

"I'd like to rest for now. Don't allow anyone in my room."

Hotaru followed him from behind as he went to his room. There was no tutoring or any activity scheduled today so it won't be a problem. However, did he forget? He promised to continue their piano lesson once he came back from practice.

"What about that thing you promised, Seijuro-sama?" she timidly mumbled.

He paused and glanced at her. "What promise?"

Hotaru had always imagined the possibility of Akashi Seijuro forgetting about it due to his busy schedule but it never happened before, not even once. So, this was the first time.

Something was definitely different, she noticed.

She gulped, unsure if she must say it. "T-The piano lesson?"

His eyes didn't falter. It was looking at her coldly. "Have I confirmed it?"

This time, the frown couldn't help but be shown on her face. Well, indeed he didn't but it was never a problem before. Akashi had always been so patient and kind when it came to her plea to be taught at the piano. Somehow, she realized the insensitivity of her actions every time. As a mere attendant, she dared bother her superior?

She bit her lips and looked down.

"Hotaru, how long have I been teaching you? Do you still require my presence every time?"

Her eyes winced in fear. "I-I apologize, ...Seijuro-sama."

"You should know your limitations. Perhaps, the piano isn't meant for you."

She gulped at the sharpness of his words that seemed to have slit her heart.

This didn't seem like the Akashi Seijuro she knew. Though she could be irritating or nosy at times, still, she believed he would never opt to react this way. He was never like that. He was never that terrifying to the point where she couldn't even look him in the eye.

Ah.

Right, his eyes. It was different.

Just what happened?

Regardless, she kept her composure and offered a bow. "I...I'll keep that in mind, Seijuro-sama. Please get in your room and have a rest."

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(Present day)

At 12:00 PM, you will be travelling to Tokyo for the Winter Tournament." Hotaru informed, while holding a small notepad containing all his schedule.

He blinked, he was in the middle of fixing his tie in front of the mirror.

Just a couple of matches and they would be the champion. That was nothing but a fact, it was all within his grasp already. The upcoming match would be a bit of a challenge compared to the previous ones, because it would be against that person–Kuroko.

Strangely enough, his mind seemed to be wandering too much since waking up. It wasn't like he was nervous or something.

He shifted his head a bit to the right just to watch the small movement of the girl. A little nod from time to time, as if agreeing to whatever was written on her notepad. He noticed too, the strands of her hair had gotten longer. Time did fly so fast when he wasn't paying attention.

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"Hayama-san and the others already checked-in at the hotel."

No affirmation from his end. The two freshmen just arrived in Tokyo for the tournament. They didn't join the others at the bus because Akashi planned to visit their mansion as well. It would be easier if they brought their own ride.

They stood in front of the gymnasium where the match would be held.

"Would you like to join them or do you prefer to stay at the mansion?" As she finished asking, he glanced and made a nod.

"The latter."

"Then—"

"I have something I'd like to do. I'll contact you after."

She blinked at the interjection. Just what could it be? Hotaru wondered.

Nevertheless, the girl bowed her head and paused to her position, letting the redhead pace forward. That was right, she was in no right to ask where he would be going. Though she knew this moment would be the perfect time to reunite with his previous teammates in Teikou. Perhaps, he would be meeting them. Therefore, it would be beyond her duty anymore.

nearing there...