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There was two of him. He wasn’t entirely sure when it happened, when his whole world fell apart, but he knew, without a doubt, the consequences of fear and insecurity.
Akashi’s mother told him this once—Your father wants the best from you, not for you. But what I want is for you to be happy. You should want that for yourself, too. It’s what you deserve.
A few years later, the words echoed in his head. Akashi glanced at his father, who was dressed head-to-toe in black. His own father, who had told him many times before to never show weakness, was crying. It was silent, but still noticeable.
But what I want is for you to be happy. Was Akashi happy now? Was he happy with his mother gone, and his father losing himself as well? No. He couldn’t be happy without the only person in his life who made him smile.
“Come now, Seijurou,” his father stood up suddenly. There were no traces of tears on his face. “You have violin practice in two hours. The funeral is ending soon.”
“I thought I had a break today,” Akashi said quietly.
“There are no exceptions for excellency,” he frowned. “It is what your mother would have wanted.”
In a rare moment of defiance, Akashi protested. “Mom wanted me to be happy.”
There was a suffocating silence between them.
“I did not raise my only child up so that he could do whatever he wanted with his life,” Akashi’s father said sharply. “If you decide to skip your violin practice today, then I will resign you from the basketball club as well. You don’t want that to happen, do you?”
“No, sir,” Akashi bowed his head. He stood up and followed his father back into their mansion.
At an age that was far too young, Akashi realized the bitter truth that everyone knew deep in their hearts. The world was cruel. It was beautiful, yes, but it would tear apart your hope in a second and leave you hanging for dead. It would take away the people who you loved until there was nothing left but a hole in your heart. It gathered up your insecurities and paranoia, twisting the thoughts in your head like a knife in your gut, and it wouldn’t stop. The only way to make it stop was to start believing everything that whispered in the back of your head—you are nothing, everyone is better than you, what are you doing here? If you cannot win, you don’t deserve to live. No one loves you, not even your own father.
No one could ever love you.
Victory had to be obtained. Without victory, life had no purpose, no meaning. Those who lost deserved nothing. Those who won, however, were successful. They were worth something.
Akashi could not lose. Without victory, he was just another speck of dust in a universe where no one cared about anyone else’s well-being. He ignored the whispers that surrounded him from the people who pretended like they cared—you’ve changed, Akashi, you’re different now, what happened to you? You used to be so kind. Who are you?
It was bittersweet. If this was how he had to win, he would still do it a million times over. He would win, and everyone else would be left on the ground. That was just how the world was.
I’m Akashi Seijuurou, of course.
And I will be the last one standing.
“Are you happy now, Akashi?” some would ask him. He would smile politely and purse his lips.
“Happiness does not matter in a situation like this. Those who value happiness above all else are delusional in their own selfish desires. I do not feel happy when I win because winning is the minimum standard for me.”
“The world is cruel. If you pursue only happiness, it will rip it out of your hands before you even realize what’s happening. If you reign victorious, however, and keep away unnecessary emotions, the world is still cruel. But now, you are not defenseless against its abuse. See the difference?”
And there was a difference, for those who were not blind enough to see it. The only way to win against the world was to make the world afraid of you.
Insecurities turned into bitterness. Self-doubt turned into scars. Paranoia turned into nightmares.
But yet, loss turned into victory.
If that was what Akashi needed to do to win, he would kill the weak parts of him again and again and again. Maybe he was different now. So what if he was? The only thing different was that he had no weaknesses anymore, for the desire to love and be loved was a weakness in itself.
And no one could ever love him.