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As a child, Akashi had always found that leadership came naturally to him. Whenever his elementary school classmates squabbled about which game to play during recess, all it took was a quiet, but authoritative, “Let’s play tag.”, and everyone would fall over themselves trying to show how much they agreed with him. And he always won those games (sort of), because all it took was a steady gaze at the child selected as ‘it’, and the boy would scurry away to tag others instead, leaving Akashi to always remain untagged.
At first, Akashi thought it was the presence of the large black limousine at the school entrance, which commanded the obedience of the children. It was logical to assume that elementary schoolchildren would automatically be in awe of anyone their age who could enter “such a huge black monster” every time school ended. However, while this was part of the reason, Akashi began to realise that it was also his father’s fostering that instilled this natural sense of authority.
When he entered Teikou Middle School, he wanted his authority to purely be defined by him, and him alone. Hence, the limousine only quietly came and left from the farthest corners of the Teikou building. Akashi wanted to see, curiously, if his natural leadership sense could permeate even without the physical embodiment of it. He was not worried, however - he was certain that he would be able to perceive middle schoolchildren just as well as he perceived elementary schoolchildren.
____
Atsushi was simple to comprehend.
All it took was a short, firm speech on just why the boy had to play basketball. Simply because he had the talent for it. If he wasn’t going to use his talent, it was just going to shrivel in the dregs of the boy’s identity, reducing his self to merely that of a boy who ate snacks. All this was said in simpler terms, of course.
"But Akacchin~, what’s wrong with spending my middle school time just eating maiu-bo and lollies? I don’t want to work hard…it’s annoying…”
It’s wrong because if you don’t want to do anything other than eat snacks, no one would bother to go with you to the convenience store to get 2-for-1 boxes of lollies, Atsushi. You will just fade into everyone’s peripheral subconscious (no one will care about you).
At these words, Akashi observantly noticed Murasakibara slightly wilt as he crunched his cream stew maiu-bo.
No matter. Akashi would only care about people to the extent that it concerns him. That was how he always led.
And thus, Murasakibara joined the first string, and the starting regulars, without complaint.
_____
Daiki, if at all possible, was even simpler to understand than Atsushi.
The boy embodied basketball through and through. Akashi had never seen such certainty in basketball dribbles, such agility in the way any player darted around the court (almost like the bewitching movements of a predator attacking its prey), such mesmerising patterns in the fluid arcs of the shots made so carelessly by Daiki. Akashi was almost irritated by the sheer uncontrollability in the way Daiki played, if not for the fact that it was also the most sublime thing he had ever seen. The beauty of Daiki’s basketball lay in the fact that it was also the exact opposite of the way Akashi liked to play…ordered, precise, exact.
But…the boy himself was just as disorderly as his basketball. If there was ever a first challenge to Akashi’s authority, it was Daiki. With every little comment made by Akashi, the boy would snort juvenilely, or protest with great vehemence. It seemed as though since all Daiki had on his mind was basketball, Akashi’s natural authoritativeness just flew over his senses. For all his great instinct, Daiki just never seemed to recognise the absoluteness of Akashi’s words.
This was fine with Akashi. It was slightly irritating, but Daiki did come with Satsuki, who was a whole other matter entirely.
She was perhaps the best thing that could ever have happened to Akashi. The sense of trepidation he had felt when he first met Daiki, when he had first felt that this was the one thing he couldn’t control, disappeared when she popped up next to Daiki, a clipboard in her arms. A glance at the sheets told him that this girl would elevate his basketball to even greater heights, the analysis she would provide completing his near-flawless strategies, making them airtight. And with the unpredictable factor that was Daiki, his basketball would be like never before.
So Daiki could be as turbulent as he wanted, as long as he kept playing basketball that way too.
____
Shintarou was…a slight conundrum.
Akashi honestly couldn’t see the logic behind his habits, although he could certainly understand the principle. Working to the best of one’s ability was also an ethic Akashi aspired to. It was a little strange, having to accommodate purposeless actions for the sake of upholding Akashi’s own principles.
However, he was glad for Shintarou’s presence. This was new and alien to Akashi…if Daiki was the first time he felt out of control, Shintarou was the first time he felt happy for the company of a peer. He could finally play shogi with actual brainwork whenever he played Shintarou, and the boy was useful for simple brainstorming sessions.
However, Shintarou cared too much about others. If he wanted to progress, he couldn’t subtly correct the mistakes of other first-stringers, before the coach yelled at them. Mistakes had to be punished.
That was a flaw he couldn’t bear about Shintarou.
____
With Shintarou, Atsushi and Daiki taking up the majority of his thoughts (which was a big feat, as Akashi’s intellect was expansive), Akashi never realised the chinks that had appeared in his careful, self-constructed view on leadership. Every time he had to reprimand Atsushi for leaving his tube lollies on the bench instead of in the fridge (“They would melt and you won’t enjoy them, Atsushi”), or praise a new shot invention and shogi strategy from Daiki and Shintarou respectively, a new crack appeared in Akashi’s worldview.
Because he had started to care about them.
It was meeting Tetsuya that brought this into light. Despite Daiki’s constant laudations for Tetsuya, rather than feeling impressed about Tetsuya’s passing ability (which truly was remarkable), he was more impressed about Tetsuya’s creativity in interpreting his hints.
And that was when he realised that he had started to care for his teammates. This wasn’t care in the traditional sense, however. It was acknowledgement. He still didn’t care if Tetsuya ultimately couldn’t keep up with the first string and had to be thrown out. Or if Shintarou would be demoted for another ridiculous horoscope matter.
Rather, his care was defined by the fact that his teammates appeared in his mind as actual people, all quirks and qualities intact. Instead of formless and shapeless beings for him to lead, they became..people.
Even though this was a foreign concept to Akashi, it didn’t bother him too much. Even if they changed in his mind, as long as his leadership still maintained control, it wouldn’t bother him in the slightest.
____
And that was why he wasn’t surprised when Ryouta also took a space in his mind.
The blond was made of pure potential. The only other time Akashi had ever been impressed with basketball talent was when he saw Daiki play, but Ryouta’s talent was different. If he had to compare the two graphically, he would say that Ryouta’s talent resembled erratic spikes, while Daiki’s resembled a smooth steep line. The spikes on the imagined talent graph were so sharp and increased so steeply, Akashi could only marvel at them.
And hence, it was without regret that Akashi deliberately kicked out Shougo in favour of Ryouta. Because while Shougo remained formless in his mind, Ryouta had started taking shape.
____
As usual, it was Daiki once more, who threw Akashi’s comfortable notions out of balance.
Akashi had just begun to feel at ease with the complete “shapes” of his teammates in his mind, when Daiki started defying his predictions. Instead of the “smooth steep line” he imagined Daiki’s talent to be, the line suddenly resembled…an explosion. He couldn’t see how far Daiki would go. The basketball Daiki played became even more beautiful than before, and Akashi had once thought that impossible.
Additionally, Daiki changed. The comfortable, solid shape Daiki had taken form in Akashi’s mind was crumbling to pieces as Daiki started showing boredom for basketball. This was…impossible. Akashi would never have envisioned this in his mind.
And so, he sent Tetsuya and Satsuki after him. He had to salvage whatever control he had before it was too late. Satsuki, with all her statistics and data, and years of knowing Daiki, failed. She had never failed him before.
And Tetsuya, who was more in tune with emotions, contrary to his visage, than anyone else Akashi knew, failed him too.
When Shintarou and Ryouta expressed concerns, Akashi knew that he had to do something. And then Atsushi defied him. The boy who had joined basketball for the mere reason that Akashi ordered him to, was starting to deny Akashi’s absoluteness.
This was unacceptable. Everything was spiralling out of control.
And hence, Akashi switched. It was the only way to maintain some semblance of control. The “forms” in his mind faded, and became worthless, shapeless beings once more…entities only to exist with, to only follow his orders. Daiki was uncontrollable, and hence his views suddenly became logical in Akashi’s mind. In this way, Daiki would not disobey him…instead, his views would become Akashi’s orders, which would then be obeyed by everyone.
And thus, for the rest of his time at Teikou, Akashi led only to the extent that it concerned him. No one had the right to “form shapes” in his mind anymore. This, Akashi knew, was leadership.