Chapter Text
The car maneuvered into Kinugasa area in northern Kyoto. Vehicles were rarer here, it's more residential area. Akashi's current neighborhood. Venerable residences with substantial acreages sequestered behind high fences and gates. This was where the genteel of Japan had lived since ancient times. Here, wealth wasn't flashy. It's quiet.
The obsidian black Lexus LS stopped in front of a large nagayamon, a type of gate where the gate itself was actually two row houses joined together, with the central pathway being the gate itself. Back in the Edo period, these gates were used as rooms for low-ranking samurai and servants, as storage spaces, or as barns.
It was the entrance to his family’s Kyoto estate. Now, though, both sides of the gate had been converted into garages.
After the car had been parked, he got out and used the garage entrance door that led directly into the estate, bypassing the main gate. He strolled down the path to the mansion.
The traditional mansion consisted of two one-storey buildings, joined to each other by a covered walkway. He lived in the main house, and it was also where any of his family members stayed when they had to be in Kyoto. The annex was for the domestic workers in the estate to use.
He greeted with a customary "I'm back" as he slid the door open. Usually it was Mrs Yamamoto, who'd worked there longer than he'd known this place, who'd greet him back and offer him evening snacks. He'd already told her so many times he didn't snack before dinner. But she didn't seem to take any notice.
There was no greeting today. It didn't bother him though. Instead, he heard people speaking quite loudly in what could be an argument.
He took off his shoes and put them on the rack in the genkan, and tracked where the loud voice was coming from. His steps were easy, not at all hurried, which didn't seem like he 's worried.
"You said the ingredients I requested are in the eco bag. So I used all that's in it," he heard a man say as he walked towards the kitchen.
"I did. But which ingredients did you necessitate? Do enlighten me once more," a woman replied. That's he knew Mrs Yamamoto's voice.
"Er, carrots... and apples," the man answered.
When Akashi went into the kitchen, he saw it was Mr Inoue, the new caretaker he'd hired to look after his equines, because the previous one had retired due to old age.
"I'm back," he greeted them. Mrs Yamamoto and Mr Inoue looked a bit surprised. Mr Inoue nodded a little and hummed 'Welcome back, sir' as Mrs Yamamoto rushed over to him and said the same thing, then asked if he wanted any snacks.
"I'm good for now," he replied. "I heard some noise in here, so I just thought I'd have a look. How rare it is to see the two of you querelling."
"Inoue-kun used the very cucumber I bought for your chirashizushi to gussy up the cake. A frightful faux pas, wouldn't you concur?" Mrs Yamamoto said, her voice a little higher than usual, pointing out at a brown-colored cake, topped with sliced cucumber.
It was the cake he'd requested Mr Inoue to make for Yukimaru's birthday.
"Like I told you, Ma’am, that thing you said wasn't so clear," Inoue insisted. "Also, we're talkin' barazushi, right? Just slap some minced meckerel, a coupla boilled eggs, shiitake mushrooms, and lotus root on it. Who puts cucumber on their barazushi, anyway?"
"Kanto folk," Mrs. Yamamoto asserted.
And both her and Inoue looked at Akashi.
"Uh, r-right. T-They do," Mr Inoue responded, stammering slightly. He plumb forgot his boss was from Kanto, and those Kanto people usually put cucumber on their chirashizushi.
"And it is chirashizushi, not barazushi, we are speaking of. The toppings are scattered, not all jumbled together,” added Mrs Yamamoto.
Akashi just smiled politely.
"Cucumber on chirashizushi is delicious, you know. And refreshing too."
Unlike the pungent beni shōga that you Kyotoites contaminate your barazushi with.
He thought to himself.
This morning, Mrs Yamamoto had asked if he would like barazushi again for his birthday.
Again?
"You seemed to rather enjoy it last year. So I was wondering if you'd fancy me making it again this year," she said.
He...enjoyed barazushi? If it wasn't got beni shōga sprinkled all over, then surely, he'd enjoy it. But if it was, just the thought of that tangy, sour pickled ginger hitting his taste buds was enough to make him cringe.
But maybe he liked beni shōga?
Good gracious, this dissociation really put him in a pickle.
"Of course, it's absolutely fine if you'd prefer a different repast."
He eventually said yes to her idea, though he asked Mrs Yamamoto to prepare Kanto-style chirashizushi instead of Kyoto-style barazushi. This was so that he wouldn't end up with a face like Jabba the Hutt when he ate it.
"Oh, I'll now have to pop to the supermarket for cucumber. Dinnertime..." Mrs Yamamoto glanced at the clock on the kitchen’s wall.
"If it's cucumbers, then I've got some here," he stated serenely, and handed over a plastic bag containing three cucumbers.
"Eh?!" Both Mrs Yamamoto and Mr Inoue exclaimed in unison.
"Why're you carryin' all those cucumbers with you... sir?" Mr Inoue couldn’t hide his surprise and asked.
Akashi gave a little shrug with a slight smile.
All hail Oha-Asa!
Mrs Yamamoto accepted the cucumbers, humming happily while striding back to the kitchen.
"Could you please slice the cake before bringing it to the stable? I'd like Yukimaru to share with others," he told Mr Inoue and then excused himself to change. He returned shortly, now wearing a black, thick cardigan over a high-neck white t-shirt with a smart trouser. He threw on a navy blue quilt jacket for extra warmth.
"I didn't know today is your birthday too... sir," Mr Inoue said in their short walk to the rear of the property.
"Yukimaru and I were born on the same day and are exactly the same age," Akashi replied.
"That's really somethin' else," Mr Inoue commented. "Was he the first steed you ever sat on... sir?"
"He wasn't," Akashi stated. "I started equestrian lessons when I was four. Yukimaru was also four then. I mean, any decent instructor would never let a four-year-old ride an equine that young."
Mr Inoue let out a little hum and nodded. “What kinda steed were you sittin' on for your first ride?”
"A schoolmaster Welsh pony, if my memory serves," He said as he and Inoue reached the stable where his equines were housed.
“S... School... master?” Inoue tried to make sense of this term he had never heard before.
Akashi then explained that there were these experienced, well-trained equines that were used to help riders learn or perfect skills and these equines were called schoolmasters.
Mr Inoue started working in September. Akashi got him recommended by the vet who regularly checked up Yukimaru and others. "But solely if you don't mind someone with a bit of a checkered past," the vet add a comment.
Mr Inoue was a recovered recluse. The vet, an old friend of his, tried to help him out. "You're not good with people?" The vet asked, "How about animals?" So he started working at the clinic's grooming service. Turned out, he's great at recognizing patterns and noticing subtle changes in how the horses held themselves, even with no experience. The vet called him a 'horse listener,' not a whisperer. Listening was the best thing one could do for horses.
When Akashi met Mr Inoue in person, he concurred with the vet's evaluation, given his own knack for recognizing potential. He could sense Mr Inoue was still slightly taken aback by the fact his boss was a high schooler, but he got right to work. His equines were at ease around Inoue. And that bit about being 'passionate about the job' on his resume? No kidding. Like when he asked if it was alright to give Yukimaru a birthday cake. He said, "Over the ocean, they're givin' horses birthday cake. I learned it on the internet."
Akashi usually showered Yukimaru with extra fruits like apples, bananas, and melons on his birthday, but never a cake. 'Horse cake', as he understood it, was just grated carrot and apple, oatmeal, and honey all mixed into a batter, shaped like a cake. Seemed like a decent plan, actually.
After checking with a vet and getting the okay, Mr Inoue offered to bake the cake himself.
They went in through a set of wide, double doors to the stable where there were three equines: Yukimaru, Countess Alix, and Hagane. Hagane was a blue roan Dosanko horse rescued from an abandoned farm. He'd seen Hagane's story on the news one morning, a couple months after the rescue, and by that evening, he was already at the shelter. On a whim, really. Before he knew it, Hagane was settling into his stall. Getting used to the foreign breeds, he's always curious about the local horse breeds, too.
Inside the stable was warm due to good insulation. Akashi went straight to Yukimaru’s stall. The cream gelding, who were standing quietly in his spacious stall, turned his body to him and breathed calmly. His ears were up.
Yukimaru might appear nearly white, but was not a true white horse in genetic sense. He got dark skin color under his coat.
"Sorry to keep you waiting, Yuki," he uttered to his steadfast steed, which sniffed his held-out hand in a loose fit. “I had early party thrown for me.”
The dark-eyed cross pony then nuzzled the cake he held out in his other hand.
"Here's a little something special for you. Happy birthday," He said. At first, he held the plate for Yukimaru to eat the cake from, but Yukimaru kept nibbling at the cake and dropping every bite on the bedding-pellet-covered floor to eat it, so he just put the plate on the floor in the end.
"Whatever floats your boat. You're the star today."
"So are you, sir," Mr Inoue piped up, grinning.
Akashi snorted with laughter. "Yeah," he responded.
He then asked Mr Inoue to gave a slice of cake to Hagane while he would feed the other to Countess Alix.
He caressed her neck, breathed into her nose, dug his knuckle lightly into that place where dams nuzzle their foals. "Would you care for some cake?" He asked the warmblood mare.
The gray mare nuzzled into his palm that didn’t hold the plate, more interested in affection than in food.
"You're the best," Akashi whispered. "Come on. Eat up."
Countess Alix nibbled delicately. Akashi stroked her mane.
So calm. So amiable. No one would think she was a speed demon when ridden.
They met a year ago. Well, technically. On his return from the Winter Cup in Tokyo feeling down, he went straight to the stable. That's where he saw a gray horse, must've been a good sixteen hands, standing in the stall next to Yukimaru's. The horse, mirroring his subtle astonishment, looked at him at its full height.
A fully trained show jumper, the mare was purchased, as per her paperwork, at eight years old at the autumn auction two years ago. Or put differently, around the time that his alternate persona took command of his body.
His recollections of her played like a silent movie; so distant, as though she'd been in someone else's story. Talked to his father about moving up from a pony to a horse. Had a test ride. Tried the horse again and again.
So his true self, based on hazy memories and information he'd gleaned from his riding instructor, tried to figure out how to handle her. Because he felt as much of an outsider to the mare as the mare felt to him.
He learned that she responded to requests, not commands. He had to have a conversation with her to work out whether he respected her enough to put her all in. Yukimaru gave him what he asked for, but Countess Alix was all or nothing.
Akashi then went to see Hagane in his stall. The old horse just finished his cake. No one really knew how old Hagane was, but the vet guessed he's over 20.
Mr Inoue took a moment to step away and get the equines' evening feedings ready—some grain and hay.
This was the "important dinner" he'd mentioned to Nozu. And he's not lying. It's really important.
He stroked Hagane along the neck and withers. Hagane had gone back to his regal self after being found emaciated. He was only occasionally put on for light activities like walking or trotting, though, because he was quite old. He spent most of his time enjoying turnout sessions in the pasture. As he should have.
Akashi's going to stick around while the equines had their evening feedings, so he strolled back to Yukimaru's stall. Yukimaru flagged his tail as he approached.
"Sorry, Yuki. We aren't going for a ride," Akashi announced, noticing Yukimaru's excitement. "It's already dark out."
It's only 5.06 pm, though. Akashi checked his watch. Just like the autumn sun, the winter sun, too, went down as fast as a bucket falling into a well.
Akashi went to the stall window that looked outside, and Yukimaru followed him. When he stopped, Yukimaru stopped one step behind him.
"See?" he said, opening the window, like he was proving he wasn't lying. "We don't have an indoor paddock here like we do in Tokyo."
Yukimaru nickered.
The crisp, fresh, earthy air rushed in pleasantly.
"Looks like another dry birthday for us," He remarked, looking at the clear winter sky outside.
"And no snow in Tokyo, either."
That's what he'd seen on the weather forecast today.
It hardly ever snowed in Tokyo or Kyoto in December. Mainly because the snow clouds coming from the Sea of Japan would lose their moisture before reaching the Pacific.
However...
Once in a December, JMA reported some really strong cold air from Siberia coming over the Sea of Japan. A regular weather event known as cold-air outbreak, bringing heavy snow to the coast facing the sea. But that time, a polar low developed over the sea as well, causing heavy snowfall to creep towards the Pacific coast, with Tokyo being no exception.
Once in a December, the mercury in eastern and western Japan dipped to its lowest recorded level in postwar period.
It was under this unprecedented cold spell that he and Yukimaru first drew breath.
"That snow day was a real freak of nature. Tough day to be born, that's for sure," he uttered. There was no snow on their birthday again after that.
Yukimaru gently nuzzled his jacket sleeve. Akashi shot him a glance, beaming, and gave Yukimaru a scratch on his forelock.
"Thank you for being born alongside me in this world," he whispered affectionately, scratching along his mane.
He looked deeply into Yukimaru's eyes.
"You truly have no idea what you mean to me."
A steadfast companion, a grounding force in a world that's constantly changing.
Akashi found in Yukimaru solace and comfort in times of loneliness, strength in moment of weakness, and unwavering support through trials and thriumps. Following the passing of his mother, Yukimaru became a constant presence on his solitary journey.
Growing up, whenever things got tough at home, he'd sneak out late at night to the stable and hug him. He would patiently stand there while he buried his face in his mane. When he was tired, he'd climb into Yukimaru's manger and fall asleep on his hay. Yukimaru would just stand there with his head over him, staying put while he slept.
For the past year, Yukimaru had been a constant presence, a real support during his treatment for dissociative disorder.
One time when he was riding serpentines with Yukimaru, he had a switch to altered state. While in the state of becoming a depersonalized observer of himself, he noticed Yukimaru slowed down, as if responding to subtle changes in his cues. Yukimaru didn't rear in effort to dismount him, though. It was more like he just didn't want him on his back, but he wanted to get him off as safely as possible.
Afterwards, when he talked to his clinician about the experience, they explored the possibility of him of not being "evil" and also being part of himself. If Yukimaru, his long-standing trusted ally, could accept the part of him who's previously feared and split off, then perhaps he could as well. Few months later, he healed enough to integrate.
Yukimaru lifted his head a little so that his head was level with his, his large eyes only about 20 centimeters from his own. He looked into Yukimaru, standing so close. Landing into his gaze was the hollows above Yukimaru’s eyes, which, he noticed, became slightly deepened.
They're the same age, but he's still a teenager, while Yukimaru's already reached his twilight years, showing some classic signs of aging.
Akashi couldn't help but feel a quiet sort of melancholy.
"Time is a such curious concept, isn't it, Yuki? It moves slow for me, but fast for you."
Though he's aware that time was time, equal and fair to all who lived.
"But you've still got a long road ahead, don't you? You do, and I'll see to that," he said in a low, measured, and confident tone.
You're going to be alongside me for a very long period, Yuki, as near to my entire existence as can be.
For that reason, he knew he'd need to maintain his current lifestyle. Owning horses required privilege and wealth, a fact he's well aware of, which was why so many horses changed hands, usually because of financial problem. He couldn't fathom selling Yukimaru, not for any amount. After all they'd been through, it's out of the question. Yukimaru had brought him some of his happiest days. Although he would also be the cause of what would possibly be one of his worst.
"I reckon becoming a worthy heir is the best bet. Like it always has been. What do you think, Yuki?"
His family was a mess, sure, but they're sitting on assets worth five billion dollars. After the mental harm they inflicted, at least he walked off with their hefty fortune as payback.
He'd deal with the generational trauma down the line.
Now, he wasn't automatically next in line, even with his father being the current heir. The family valued earning one's spot, pushing the future heirs to work hard and achieve. That's how they built their wealth for nearly 140 years. He had to outshine his cousins to prove he's the most worthy successor. And he'd always done that, showing his worth through achievements in all parts of his life. His achievements in basketball, just like all his other achievements, should just add to his overall worth.
How'd basketball turn into something that's taking my eye off the prize?
After his mother passed, basketball felt like a real tie to her. He couldn't make new memories with her, so he clung to what she left behind. Along the way, basketball brought him into the company of other members of the so-called Generation of Miracles. His bond with his old teammates was one of a kind. They went head-to-head on court, but off court, everything was cool. They knew about his dissociative identity disorder, and after some initial caution, they accepted him and even his alter. He never said it, but he knew he was lucky to have met them. He wanted to spend as much time as he could with them, and the best way he knew how, was to keep playing basketball.
He still couldn't say for sure if his old teammates would go pro, but they'd definitely keep playing in university. Some universities with killer basketball programs were probably already checking them out. However, he'd most likely go to the same university his father went to, that private university known for its elite beginnings and its history of educating Japan's nobility. The university had a basketball team, but it wasn't exactly top-tier.
Yukimaru's sudden fidgeting snapped Akashi out of his daze. His eyes shot wide open, whites showing all around. He flared his nostrils, squaring them off like he's gasping for air.
"Oh. Sorry. I think I'm getting a touch of the birthday blues," Akashi uttered, noticing Yukimaru's restlessness. "Are you picking up on the bad vibes from it?"
He exhaled audibly for four counts. Yukimaru quieted down right after.
"Good boy."
Akashi scratched Yukimaru's withers.
"Guess I can't pull the wool over your eyes, huh?"
Whenever he got worried, which wasn't often, Yukimaru knew it and understandably thought that whatever it was that's making his human worried was something that could attack him as well.
The pony then started flapping his lips, which made his face look so goofy, when he stopped scratching him.
"I really can never have serious talk with you," he said, feigning annoyance, but he couldn't help but laugh.
He used to be concerned when Yukimaru did that and had the vet check him out. But the results came back great. No sign of colic, dental pain, or any neurological issues.
"He does that lip-flapping thing when he's relaxed, not pacing, correct? Then possibly it's just a habit. Some equines just like to flap their lips when they're bored or want some attention," the vet said.
And that's exactly the case with Yukimaru.
"Alright, alright, I got it. You've got my undivided attention now. "
Akashi gave Yukimaru's withers another scratch. He thought, marveling at the magnificent animal before him, how beautiful it was to have him, who asked for nothing more than his company.
"Aight. Sorry you had to wait," Mr Inoue rolled back with a wheelbarrow. The wheelbarrow was loaded with hay flakes, a couple of grain bags, and an electrolyte container.
Akashi went out from Yukimaru’s stall and helped Mr Inoue to distribute the hay to the feeder in each stall while Mr Inoue scooped grains to feeding containers and top-dressed it with electrolyte.
Akashi stepped out of Yukimaru's stall and helped Mr. Inoue distribute hay into each stall's feeder. At the same time, Mr Inoue doled out scoops of grain, topping each with electrolytes.
His equines ate five small meals a day to mimic natural grazing. Mr Inoue usually handled the feedings, but he pitched in whenever he could, usually for the evening feeding and on weekends, the post-ride morning feeding too.
Having topped off Hagane's hay feeder, he moved into the aisle and cast a look over the stalls at his equines peacefully eating. He'd recently found himself taking simple pleasure in feeding them. The hay smelled good. The sound of them eating was comforting. The sound of grains hitting the feeder was soothing. All of it helped him tune out abstract worries and planning.
"Shouldn't you be gettin' ready for dinner... sir?" Mr. Inoue asked. "You better be headin' inside before Mrs Yamamoto starts screamin' with that bell."
Akashi chuckled.
Near the back door, which opened to the stable, paddock, and pasture, hung an old dinner bell. Mrs Yamamoto liked it rung when she felt he'd been out back too long and was about to miss a meal, even by just a minute or two.
She wasn't anything like the household staff back at his place in Tokyo. She had an unvarnished attitude, even toward him, the son of the family she worked for.
"Alright, suppose I ought to head out."
He moseyed over to each stall, saying goodnight to his equines. Then, he told Mr Inoue to go on and have his dinner too. They were having chirashizushi for dinner, all of them.
Back inside, Mrs Yamamoto mentioned he had a couple of packages waiting.
"I left them in the living room," she said.
So, he headed to the living room to check them up.
There was a large box with a smaller one sitting on top.
Huh? Momoi?
He read the sender's name on the smaller box.
Momoi had asked for his Kyoto address after that get-together for Kuroko's birthday in January, saying everyone wanted to send him a New Year's card again. But... wasn't it a little early for that?
Murasakibara was the one who sent the bigger box. Oh, this was what he meant in his message.
Upon opening the small box, he discovered a piece of paper, and beneath it, a golden keychain adorned with two charms crafted from a leather-esque material. One charm was an orange horseshoe, the other a chestnut-colored horse's profile. Then there's also a little phone charm shaped like a chubby white animal with two huge black nostrils, probably a cow.
He unfolded the paper. It was a letter, penned in Momoi's handwriting. He recognized it instantly, having read countless reports she'd written back during their junior high days.
Hi!
We got together a few days back and were chatting about your upcoming birthday and what we should do. We figured we'd give you a birthday present... that doubles as a congrats for winning the All Japan Young Riders Championship! Since we hadn't had a chance to do that yet. ^^ So, we got you this. Happy birthday and congrats!
Last September, when he posted on the group chat that he's going to be in Tokyo to compete in the All Japan Young Riders Championship, Kise and Momoi insisted on spectating. It had nothing to do with basketball, so he didn't expect anyone to be interested.
"Free admission, you say? We’re definetely going!" Kise said when he shared the event details.
He and Momoi, who always came in a set with Aomine, really did come to JRA Equestrian Park to watch him. Surprisingly, Midorima also tagged along.
"I'm just here to get today's lucky item, I've gotta tell you," he said, holding up a bay horse acrylic standee.
There was indeed a racehorse merchandise shop on the first floor of the JRA Equestrian Park Main Office. Today's event even had vendor booths selling horse-related goods and limited-edition items, too.
Aomine kept saying it's a bummer that there's no betting because he definitely would've placed wagers on him.
"Seriously, when else will a slam-dunk deal like this come along?" he said.
Momoi told him over and over that it's not horse racing and Midorima reprimanded him that even if it's horse racing, high school students weren't allowed to place a bet by law.
We couldn't find a white horse charm, though. But Midorin said that a horseshoe is an age-old symbol of good luck and protection, so I hope you like it nonetheless.
Of course he liked it.
The phone charm. Dai-chan got it from a gachapon machine. We told him the anime character is a mule, not a horse, but he's adamant a mule is just a small horse.
Coming from someone who believed crawfish turned into lobsters, I'm not surprised.
Oh, and here he thought it was a cow.
I figured we'd hand this out when we all get together, like before or after Winter Cup? But the others said they didn't want to give a present to a rival. So, we sent this (before we're back to being rivals again).
He noticed alterations in handwriting styles.
That’s right. Also, Satsuki! Don't be just writin' stuff 'bout me that ain't necessary!
True that! We'll be out of friendly mode during Winter Cup! >_<
That’s correct, I've gotta tell you. I'm game to be involved in this, as this is unrelated to basketball.
I didn't get the chance to catch the championship, but I want to offer my heartfelt congratulations and birthday greetings.
The handwriting switched back to Momoi's.
Anyways, enjoy your day, okay? We'll be seeing you soon!
Take care!
He didn't stop smiling, even after he was done reading the letter. He could just picture the real mess that must've been going on when it was written.
Then, he opened up the second package. Inside, were two big packs of KitKat: sweet potato-flavor and apple-flavor.
There was a sticky note stuck to one of the packs.
Sweets are justice. U just got ur reciprocal justice. HBD (asked Sa-cchin when ur birthday is)
Gosh darn these folks. He thought, but he meant it with genuine fondness.
Weeks, even months, could drift by without him and his middle school buddies shooting the breeze, but picking up where they left off was always a breeze, like no time had passed at all. Nobody was ever called out for just living their own life.
Perhaps, just perhaps, if he or any of them bailed on the whole basketball thing, maybe they'd all get it. Because they're all aware that each one of them was dealing with their own stuff. And whenever they'd cross paths, it'd always be like the good old days. They'd celebrate at the drop of a hat—victories, birthdays, summer festivals, the whole shebang.
Yukimaru was right; he didn't need to worry.
After all, everything had always come back into place for him, even if it took their sweet time. He figured, down the road, he'd look back and realize he made it through okay, just like always.