"I thought I was imagining things."
Hotaru snapped upon hearing the voice, quickly closing her book to face the person who just spoke.
A smile immediately crossed her face as she stood up from the stairs of the patio. "Fujita-san."
"It's really you." The owner of the name smiled back and approached Hotaru closely, skeptically studying her from head to toe. "Last time I saw you, you were only this tall." Fujita said, leveling a palm to her shoulders. "So…" a creased on her white apron appeared upon crossing arms, "Why were you sitting here at the patio? You should have went inside."
For a while, Hotaru couldn't decide what to do first. Greet her? Answer the question? Make a response to the comment regarding her height? Or last but not the least, note how she aged since the last time they saw each other. It was rare for her to visit the capital after all.
"I actually…just wanted to past some time while waiting for Seijuro-sama..." Hotaru smiled again. "…That's why."
"Oh, now that you mentioned Seijuro-sama's name, where is he?"
"He had something to do. He'd be here soon."
"I see. Then why don't you come in first?"
Hotaru nodded and stepped forward upon the invitation of the caretaker.
"I can prepare some tea for you, how's that?"
"Yes, thank you."
The two would be staying at the old mansion in the capital for the whole duration of the tournament. It was the place where they spent some of their time when they were young. Akashi, however, had most of his early memory in this place. He had lived here from the day he was born until the last breath of his mother. After that, it became a constant back and forth to Kyoto and Tokyo, until he stayed for good in Kyoto to attend Rakuzan.
.
.
.
When Akashi came back, he had a different air around him. At first, Hotaru couldn't point out what caused it until she noticed his hair. Somehow, it had gotten shorter as if he just had a haircut. But a haircut for such a short duration of time? And why would he bother getting one at this time? It was quite inessential. Something must have happened. Regardless, she simply smiled. "Welcome back, Seijuro-sama."
He nodded, before handling his jacket to her. There were still some time before the match began. The other members of the team were already in the hotel so there was no need to rush. The school was generous enough to sponsor the whole team with such accommodation. Therefore, they might as well use it, though Akashi preferred to stay in their mansion. He had to see his father too, who would be arriving in two days from a business trip.
"What happened to your hair, Seijuro-sama?" She asked, as the two walked to the direction of the room he'd be using. It won't be just any room, in fact, it was the one he used before.
From the moment he arrived, Akashi was nonchalant despite not seeing the mansion after a long time. It was as if part of him had shut off any lingering emotion he had to the place. He didn't also say anything to the caretaker whom he hadn't seen since he was still a little boy.
"I cut it off."
She frowned, "On your own? Why—"
"It bothered me. That is all, Hotaru. There's no reason to emphasize such small matter." he said and that was enough to silence her. Right, it was a mere haircut. But she didn't think he'd do it just because. Either way, she didn't think she could speak again after that.
"I understand."
She knew he went to meet his former teammates. Just what exactly happened there?
On to their intended destination, Hotaru was briefed by Fujita that Seijuro's room was already tidied up, making sure that it wouldn't feel stuffy inside. The caretaker also assured that Akashi Seijuro won't notice that the room had been vacant for so long. That was a good thing, she thought.
However, when Akashi opened the door, they immediately noticed a foreign yet familiar thing in the room.
Hotaru was surprised, unsure if it was a good thing.
The Akashi family owned several pianos, three were in Kyoto and one in Tokyo. All of it belonged to Seijuro's late mother—Shiori. To compare each, the three music instrument located in Kyoto were by far the best, crafted by the no.1 manufacturer in the country. Meanwhile, this one in Tokyo would probably ranked the lowest among all. After all, it was the oldest and the most worn out piece they owned, bought from a no-named store. Regardless, it was the instrument that held the most memory. It was the first piano Shiori had, the one she used to teach Seijuro. If there was something that had seen the progress of Akashi Family from the start until it bloomed to success, it would be this piano.
Since the demise of his mother, it was left untouched at the music room. To see it right before their eyes sent nostalgia to the two. For Hotaru, she remembered how much she wanted to try playing it but considering the memory it held, she just couldn't seem to do so. Back then, all she had was her crappy skills and uncoordinated hands. She would never want to disrespect the instrument that Shiori had touched the most with that.
Her eyes quickly fell to the figure of her superior. Knowing this all, and how much he changed from when they were young, made her wonder if he'd want the presence of this instrument near him. It had been so long since he last played the piano too. .
Akashi walked forward near the instrument. The passing time was visible on the surface of the black were some dents and discoloration in the body. He stared at it for some time wondering if it would still sound good.
Would you like to try, Seijuro my dear?
In a split of second, he suddenly remembered the first time Shiori invited him to the piano. It had been a long time since a memory related to his mother crossed his mind. He wondered if he intentionally stopped reminiscing her.
Because the dead would remain dead regardless...and remembering would only give birth to nonsensical emotion resulting to weakness, it was what he concluded then. So why would he do that?
Yet, he was seeing the piano again. Suddenly, the days and nights he spent in this with his Mother started flashing through his mind. Somehow, her smile appeared in his memory as if it was only yesterday that he saw it.
—Such a good memory, isn't it?
Akashi snapped upon hearing a voice. He blinked and realized his hand had travelled on top of the piano unknowingly.
His lips inched up.
What is this?
Is it your turn this time?
He knew the very essence of that voice, its entity and everything about it. It was from the person he shut down to oblivion years ago. Like a complete turn around from that time, it was talking to him without warrant.
"Seijuro-sama?"
Hotaru's voice sent him back to reality. He blinked and looked behind, removing the hand from the piano. For a moment there, he was taken aback by the nostalgic existence of a persona he tried so hard to bury.
"D-Do you want it to be removed?" She asked, taking to her own judgement that her superior was rather uncomfortable seeing the instrument again.
Ha.
She was obviously worried. But of what? She shouldn't be. It was him after all. A mere object won't do anything.
"It's fine."
"But—"
"A piano is just a piano Hotaru, nothing else."
It was just like what he said a while ago. Small matter shouldn't be given much light, was it? Then, would it mean he didn't feel anything to this instrument? She wanted to say something more but for some unexplainable sensation, it didn't seem right. Unsolicited opinion was the last thing he would want at the moment.
"...I understand Seijuro-sama." Again, it was all she could say.
He looked at her, "Is there anything else?"
Ah. "N-nothing else."
"Your face tells me otherwise."
She nearly smiled, nothing truly escaped his eyes. She held her arm and looked down. "It's nothing important."
He blinked calmly, before glancing a little to the instrument through his shoulder. The alter persona was still alive as it seemed, but he won't dare recognize it.
His eyes narrowed.
Stay still. There's no need for you.
The first match of the semi finals began.
Rakuzan High entered the gymnasium and was introduced as the school that had been playing since its founding tournament. The oldest and the strongest king, emperor of creation, Rakuzan High school.
Hotaru noted how unusual it was for Akashi Seijuro to play this early in a tournament. It only showed that the opponent was someone her superior recognized.
The black-haired girl moved her sight at the other side of the court to check who would it be.
Since entering high school, Hotaru had begun digging information about high school's basketball using different magazines she could get her hands on. Because of this, she could say that she was quite familiar on the names that dominated the high school basketball scene. Indeed, the opponent's member were known around the area, however, there should be someone who stand out the most to make the meticulous captain joined the court.
Ah.
Midorima Shintarou...
She used to hear that person's name from Akashi way back before. She believed he was the one who got along the most with the redhead during his Teikou days.
From what she knew, Midorima was a three-point shooter who took pride in his every shot. He was also one of Seijuro's teammates back in middle school. He probably knew the reason of Akashi's sudden change back then, Hotaru assumed. Unknowingly, her grip from the railings hardened.
Hotaru looked back at the Rakuzan team, particularly eyeing the quiet captain. How did he feel at the moment? Was he excited? Ecstatic? Was there any feeling of nostalgia facing an old acquaintance? How did it feel to play against someone that used to be his ally? Whatever, it was not like Akashi would lose.
Hotaru made her way to one vacant seat.
The eyes of the people at the other team were all over Akashi. This was something that Hotaru noticed too. She couldn't blame them. Akashi was a famous player after all. They were very wary of him and seemed to be taking the opportunity to examine him as much as they could.
In the midst of her thoughts and observation, she was also hearing the audience's clamor, commenting every now and then at the Rakuzan High team.
"They're totally weird."
"If he's no. 4 that would mean he's the captain, even though he's just a first year who just joined. No matter how incredible he is, that's totally unheard of."
"Moreover, the strange thing is how you don't see a single hint of discontent from the entire team. You can recognize his talent and cheer for it… but… no upperclassman would be happy losing a position to a first year."
"And they are the uncrowned generals. Each one of them has one or two tricks up their sleeves and possesses a strong pride. But every single one of them is perfectly accepting it. The abnormality is clear to anyone who's familiar with the situation. In the least , you can't call anyone who can lead people so naturally as normal."
She gulped, unsure if she was hearing compliments or doubts. Either way, she knew how much Akashi worked hard for this. Ever since they were young, he had always been fond of this sport. She also knew how responsible he was as a captain.
After warming up, both teams gathered at the court.
And so, the match finally started.
.
.
.
The crowd rejoiced for the winner.
As predicted by many, Rakuzan High won the match effortlessly.
Oddly, the team itself didn't seem to share the same joy. Instead of celebrating, they all fell silent. Rather than glee, the players acted more relieved, as if they just went through an impossible ordeal.
Winning was the only goal. Anything except that would be a failure. The pressure of being the strongest was beyond imagination. That was the fate of the emperor.
Midorima approached Akashi right after and attempted a handshake, however, it was denied by the latter. "I am sorry, but I cannot accept your handshake. If you crave victory, become less compassionate. Victory is everything. I want to be your enemy."
"I see. You haven't changed Akashi… from back then."
In the midst of the crowd, Hotaru had her eyes glued to Akashi.
The sight, and everything she heard was frustrating, even to the point that it made her heart sting.
Akashi Seijuro used to be more accepting. After he changed, he became someone who was trying so hard to control everything, mindful of every moment, striving for what was best and disliked stagnancy. Although he never said it but Hotaru could see how his heart, soul, and body seemed to be burdened with this self inflicted responsibility.
Perhaps it was safe to say that he was extremely, tremendously, and immensely being too hard on his self.
What would it take to bring the old him, at least that was better than this current individual standing amidst the crowd. How long would he keep doing this before it was too much?
Was watching all she could ever do?