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He was seven when they met again.
It was the end of his first semester at boarding school. His grandmother had been the only one to greet him at the gate upon his arrival. It didn’t bother him, though. It was not unusual for his father to be away. He hugged her like he always did, and waited patiently, a tilt to his lips, as she exclaimed over how much he had grown in the few months he had been away. He let her lead him into the house, and nodded politely at the servants who bowed as they passed.
He didn’t say much, because there was not much for him to say. His smile in its place, he listened to his grandmother describe an outing with a friend of hers. They ended up on the patio, the little sitting area and tea already prepped for their arrival. It was a ritual of sorts. Before he had gone away to school, his grandmother and him had spent a lot of their time together watching the garden.
The place was large and immaculate. The only time there was any mess in the Akashi compound was when the sakura bloomed, and the wind carried the petals off on a brief dance. His grandmother had insisted that they be left alone. A blessing, she called them. Seijuurou secretly agreed.
“You’ve been awfully quiet, my child.” He hears her from a distance, having gotten lost in thoughts about pinks and blues.
“I was enjoying the sound of your voice,” he replied, his smile widening slightly. “I had missed it dearly while I was away.”
“Still a smooth-talker,” she chuckled, and picked up her tea. “You must leave girls swooning at school.”
“Hardly,” he retorted. “You’re the only girl I want to impress.”
“You can put that charm away while you’re at home, my dear,” she tossed back with a shake of her head. “I’m not that easily won over.”
There was a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, the first sign of excitement she had seen since he’d returned. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, grandmama. I only speak the truth.”
She laughed, secretly glad to finally catch a glimpse of the boy she had raised. “I have missed you, Seijuurou.”
“And I, you, grandmama. Life was very quiet without you around.”
xxx
It was a few hours later, when the sky was splashed with a myriad of pinks and purples, and Seijuurou had just settled down in his room to read. The Akashi household ran like clockwork. He had twenty minutes to spare before dinner. It had been explained to him that it was unlikely that his father would be back for dinner. It suited him just fine. Mealtimes with his father were filled with silence and uncomfortableness. Perhaps tonight his grandmother would be partial to having their meal outdoors on the patio.
Before he could act on the thought, there was an urgent knock on his door. He looked up, not particularly surprised that his grandmother had sent a servant to take him to dinner. She knew that he had a tendency to get lost in his books.
“Come in.” He said, as he stood up.
“Young master,” the first thing he noticed when the maid opened the door, was that her face seemed to be drained of blood. A part in the back of his mind recognised what it meant, and braced him for it in the split second before the words left her mouth.
“It’s the mistress. She’s not waking up.”
The family’s private doctor was on his way, he was told, and his father had been informed. He nodded stiffly, and stepped out of the room. The maid watched helplessly as the stone-faced child who barely reached her shoulder walked woodenly away from her, wishing that she could tell him it was okay to cry, and that it was normal to do so.
xxx
He sat just outside her room, absentmindedly staring at the roots of the sakura tree in the dark. The doors were thrown wide open behind him. She loved sleeping with the doors open. She found it claustrophobic when she couldn’t hear the breeze rustle through the garden. The doctor had not been optimistic about her condition.
Old age, was all he had said by way of explanation. There was little to be done for her. Seijuurou had received a sympathetic pat on the shoulder, and then was left alone with his sleeping grandmother.
His father had sent an acknowledgement of the news he received, but had not returned.
Ruby eyes trailed upwards, searching the still branches for a bloom. He had a wish to make.
“It’s a beautiful evening, isn’t it?” He started at the words, the silence breaking like glass on a sidewalk. Turning around, he was immediately awash with a cocktail of relief, anger, and guilt - it looked like his wish might come true.
Blue eyes watched him from his grandmother’s side, glowing like lanterns in the faint light of a crescent moon. They flickered down to the peaceful face of his grandmother.
“I cannot grant you your wish,” he said softly, not looking up.
“Why?” He had not spoken since the maid had sought him out, and his voice was coarse with emotion. “You saved her before.”
The deity’s hair fluttered slightly as he shook his head. “It was not her time yet. She does not want to be saved now.”
“She doesn’t want to die!” He stood up, fists clenched. “We were supposed to have dinner together!”
Calm cerulean eyes locked with his. “It is her time, Seijuurou. Death is waiting.”
“This is ridiculous!” There was a part of his brain that told him that he should stop - that what he was doing was not befitting of an Akashi. But he couldn’t find it in himself to care right then. He could be an adult in front of the rest of the world - but this was about the life of the most important person in the world to him.
He was afraid. He was young, and without her, he would have no one left - and he could tell she was slipping away.
“Please,” he croaked, unaware of the tears running down his face. “She doesn’t deserve to die.”
The deity pursed his lips and looked away. Death was never easy for mortals. And while he wished he could wipe the child’s sorrow away, it was a fact - Death was a master. No deity, no matter how powerful, could take a soul away from Death when it came calling.
There was only one thing he was capable of doing right then -
“Seijuurou,” the boy blinked, looking down at his grandmother. The deity had disappeared just as suddenly as he had appeared. She was awake, and was smiling feebly at him. She beckoned to him, her fingers fluttering weakly.
“My dear boy,” she murmured, raising a hand slowly. He caught it, and leaned his cheek into it. “Kuroko tells me that you won’t let me go.”
Eyebrows creasing into a frown, he opened his mouth to ask, but was cut off. “Thank you for fighting for me, but I must go.”
He shook his head, the denial stuck in his throat. She was still smiling at him, her eyes calm. He didn’t want to be alone.
“You won’t be alone,” she said, as though reading his mind. “You will have friends, and you will find love. Do not believe that my death is a bad thing, child.”
“There won’t be anyone for me to come home to anymore,” he said, choking on the words. He had never learned to admit to vulnerability.
She shook her head slightly. “Kuroko will be waiting, as will l.”
He bit his lip to hold back his sobs, and closed his eyes against the stream of tears that threatened to blind him. The words felt like a lie. A promise not meant to be kept.
“You have made me so proud,” there was a waver in her voice just then, and he opened his eyes to see tears slipping down the side of her face. “You have the best years of your life ahead of you, Seijuurou. Remember your heart, and you will not go wrong. I will watch over you, and that is a promise I intend to keep.”
“I can’t do this alone.” He thought, not aware that he had said it as a plea.
“You will never be alone, my dear,” she said, squeezing his cheek slightly. “Now, you must let me go. Know that I love you.”
He shut his eyes against the thought, feeling hot tears well up despite his best efforts. There was a hand on his shoulder, and he was pulled into a chest, and he sobbed silently, his body shaking from the outpour.
xxx
The maid found him in the morning, curled up next to the still body of his grandmother. She woke him, and led him, unresisting, to his room. She told him to stay there while they prepared the house for the prayers, and walked away worriedly when he only nodded and sat on his bed with his book.
He was taken to his father’s office that afternoon, to a chilly meal during which his father gave him a lengthy lecture about how the situation should not have a negative impact on his performance in school.
It was dusk when he was driven home, to a solitary dinner on the patio in front of his grandmother’s room. He had dismissed the servants, and sat drinking hot tea on the steps leading into the garden - just like it should’ve been.
“Do you mind if I join you?” This time, he didn’t jump. He looked up at the figure, and after a moment’s thought, nodded. They sat in silence for a while, until Seijuurou finished his tea.
“Kuroko,” the pale-skinned man turned towards him. “That is your name?”
His reply was a nod. There was another lengthy pause.
“Is she happy?”
“Yes.” Seijuurou could tell that Kuroko was weighing his next words. “Her only regret is that you had to suffer.”
Seijuurou felt his heart clench. His grip on the empty cup tightened. He swallowed the words, the accusations, the anger, the cries. It was not within his power. And she was happy. He would move on - the wound would heal.
“It is okay to cry, Seijuurou,” Kuroko said softly. “You must remember to act your age sometimes.”
He wasn’t sure what it was - the words that reminded him of a younger him who believed in magic, or that he was possessed, or maybe that he was just a child - but he gave himself the permission to cry. There was no guilt in his tears this time, just despair, and anger - and maybe a hint of petulance. He didn’t bite back the cries, didn’t try to swallow them before they made it past his lips.
And the servants walking past in the hallway behind him breathed a sigh of relief, and went to tell the others.