Chapter Text
"Make sure you tidy up, guys," he said as he opened the door to the basketball club's room and spoke to his teammates inside. "Put the doughnuts back in their boxes."
"Yes, sir," came a chorus of voices.
The basketball team was out of regular practice for three days leading up to the Winter Cup to rest, but his teammates insisted he went to the club's room after school. It turned out they'd decided to throw a little party in the club's room as today was his birthday. They bought some doughnuts and piled them up as a cake alternative, then stuck "1" and "7" number candles on top.
It was all done in good spirits and with a bit of thought, but they'd forgotten: food wasn't allowed in the club room. And the person whose birthday they were celebrating was actually the compliance officer for the club.
"Listen. I'm not upset. Not at all. I really appreciate how well-meaning you are," he said, waving a French cruller doughnut wrapped in napkin tissue. "But rules are rules. No food is allowed in the club's room. Can't let this one slide just because you did it for my birthday, you know."
Once again, there came a chorus of "Yes, sir."
"You sure you wouldn't like any more doughnuts?" Hayama asked.
"Oh yeah, totally," he replied. "You may tuck into the rest of those. In the dorm. Or wherever else, but not in here."
His teammates just kind of nodded along.
Most of his teammates lived in the school dorm because they weren't from Kyoto. Well, he's not a native of Kyoto either, technically. He was born and raised in Tokyo after all. But his family had roots, and estate, in this old capital.
"And treat yourself to some fruit juice or green tea. I'll pick up the tab," he said, reaching out and tapping a bill on Hayama's hand. "See you tomorrow."
"R-Right. Got it," Hayama said, tilting his head at the bill like he was trying to think something through. The others in the room did the same. Oh, he gave them money to get drinks. Well, it was nice of him, but...
"Hey, this is too much for just... Huh? Where is he?" Hayama looked around, but Akashi was nowhere to be seen.
"I'd no clue he's this good at vanishing like that puny guy from Seirin," Nebuya said.
"5,000 yen? For juice?"
"Or green tea," Nebuya added.
"Yikes! We can snag a bottle of wine at Don Quijote with this much."
"No more ridiculous ideas, please! We're not old enough to drink yet," Mibuchi told Hayama, scolding him no matter how he took it. "Well, let's just use a bit for drinks. Give him what's left along with the receipt tomorrow."
"Say, I've picked up on Akashi beelining straight home early whenever there's no practice," Nebuya said.
"Sei-chan is not the student council president anymore," Mibuchi responded. "Maybe he's got some other extracurriculars going on. Who knows?"
"Why didn't he run for president again? He's still eligible, isn't he?"
"Oh, I asked him about it," Hayama chimed in. "He said that getting re-elected to a position more times than one normally could smacks of dictator's behavior."
"Hmm. But he's still the basketball team captain, same as last year," Nebuya responded. "And, he carried himself like a shoo-in for student council president if he decided to run again."
"The basketball team captain isn't an elective position. Coach picks who's best suited to be one. You know anyone here who could do a better job than Sei-chan? Also, can you picture him losing the election? Even Japan's prime minister's grandson didn't have a shot against him in last year's election."
Nebuya didn't respond for the simple reason that he'd pieced together everything Mibuchi was throwing out.
"Since last year's Winter Cup, it looks like his whole 'winning-at-everything' thing might not be all it's cracked up to be," Hayama said, kind of thinking about it. "But honestly, it still feels like the odds of him losing are sooo slim that I basically think they're zero. And somehow, that's enough to pump me up on court."
The other two nodded in agreement.
Once they finished cleaning up, they left the club room carrying three boxes of doughnuts.
Akashi was sitting on the bench at the school. He tapped his phone and checked the time. For now, he'd need his driver to wait at the coin-operated parking lot on the next block.
He wasn't keen on being driven around and preferred public transportation whenever possible. The problem was that buses, trains, or subways around his neighborhood in northern Kyoto required transfers or detours to get to his school downtown, eating up 40 to 50 minutes. A car, on the other hand, could zip straight there via routes like Senbon Street or Horikawa Street. Depending on traffic, it'd only take 15 to 30 minutes. So, for the sake of ease, he caved and let himself be chauffeured.
At his current school, there were quite a few well-to-do kids who were driven around, which made it seem like being chauffeured to school wasn't as conspicious. Still, he made sure to get dropped off and picked up a little ways from the school.
He tapped on the pop-up notification of chats while eating the doughnut he'd gotten from Hayama and co. Birthday wishes had been rolling in all day from his middle school friends in Tokyo, including his little gang members.
Kise and Momoi were among who the first wished him happy birthday.
Happy birthday, Akashicchi! Catch you at the semis.
Not gonna wish you luck. You've already got plenty ( *｀ω´)
Ah, yes, Rakuzan and Kaijo were in the same bracket, along with Tōō. He's hoping for a Rakuzan versus Kaijo match-up, but because of the seeding, Kaijo needed to take down Tōō first to get to the semifinals. So on top of thanking him, Akashi told Kise to come up with some way to stop Aomine and Momoi.
Happy birthday, Akashi-kun! May you continue to enjoy happy days, good health, and peaceful times in the future. See you and everyone in Winter Cup!
He thanked Momoi for the lovely wishes and said it'd be wonderful to see her and everyone both on and off court.
Momoi and Kise, the live wire of the gang, were the ones who kept them all in touch all this time, whether they realized it or not. "Give us a shout if you're in Tokyo," they told him and Murasakibara. They always seemed to have extra energy to plan get-togethers, be it for everyone or just those staying in Tokyo.
On his way to school, he received a birthday message, which felt like a New Year's greeting, from Midorima.
I wish you a prosperous year. Today's Sagittarians' lucky item is cucumber, I've gotta tell you.
Midorima wrote.
Just two minutes after Midorima's message, Kuroko's message popped up.
Happy birthday. It's getting colder these days, so please take care of your health.
No trash talk about crushing Rakuzan in Winter Cup? Probably going with the "no bragging until you're dragging" move.
He told Midorima that he'd check if he could get some after school. Then he thanked Kuroko for his thoughtfulness.
Aomine slid into his DMs at noon during lunch break.
They had a group chat, but they were considerate enough not to post birthday wishes in there because they didn't want to bug everyone with the notifications.
Satsuki just told me. Happy birthday, man.
No 3-on-3 for ya. We’re all bringin’ the whole teams to take ya down.
He typed back a reply:
Gotta admire your grit, but honestly, the result you're gunning for is kind of pie-in-the-sky. Thanks for the birthday shout-outs, btw.
And just now, while munching on his doughnut, Murasakibara’s name appeared on notification.
Im sending u some Tohoku-exclusive snacks since u kept returning the balance I sent u for those Kyoto-exclusives I asked u to send. Tell me if theyve arrived already, mkay?
Two months back, Murasakibara asked him to hunt down some Kyoto-exclusive Hojicha-flavored chocolate assortments and ship them over. It was around Murasakibara's birthday, so he thought it'd be a nice birthday present and wouldn't take the usual payment Murasakibara offered for getting Kyoto limited-edition treats. They were in a game of PayPay balance ping pong for some time, but in the end, Murasakibara gave up and got his snacks for free.
Akashi shut off the phone's screen after replying Murasakibara's chat and took the last bite of the doughnut.
"I swung by your class, but they told me you'd already headed home. Yet, here you are enjoying a little evening snack."
He's already getting up from the bench, ready to leave, when he looked over at the person who'd made the comment. That person came up to him from the walkway connecting the school buildings.
He shouldn't have expected this day to end all too pleasantly. There's got to be a fly in the ointment, and lo and behold, there it was.
"My, if it isn't Ioka-san. Good evening," Akashi said to the tall guy in glasses in front of him, and nodded slightly to the slim young guy with a disdainful look following him. "Pardon me, what were you looking for me for?"
"Quit acting like you don't know. I already told you on the phone yesterday."
Akashi frowned, like he's trying to recall something.
"Oh, you mean that?" he said with a bit of a smile, as if he had just recalled it.
Last night, this guy—his upperclassman and a scion of a political dynasty he'd known since they were kids, Ioka Nozu—suddenly called and offered to buy Yukimaru.
"If your hearing's alright, guess I should've been clearer yesterday. Yukimaru is not for sale."
Timing was peculiar when Nozu floated that offer —on the eve of his and Yukimaru's birthday. Though, to be fair, he was in the dark about their birthday.
"What's keeping you from selling it? You already got yourself a new horse. You didn't even ride Yukimaru at the last two championships. Guess it's too small for you now, huh?" Nozu kept talking. Next to him, Toshiyuki Sawa just looked around, uninterested.
The championships Nozu was talking about were the All Japan Junior and Young Riders Jumping Championships. The three young men were competitive riders, participating in show jumping. Akashi occasionally dabbled in dressage, too.
Akashi's eyes flickered.
Yeah, he got a new horse two years ago. Countess Alix, a 16.5-hand Westphalian mare. Clearly taller than Yukimaru, a 14.5-hand Connemara-Thoroughbred cross pony.
"Got no real reason. Just don't feel like it," Akashi replied casually.
He had his reasons, though. It just wasn't worth explaining it to Nozu.
"Selling equines isn't ever easy, you know? Especially geriatric ones," Nozu persisted. "But I can work something out for Yukimaru. You ought to consider yourself lucky."
And at what he said, Akashi snickered.
"Geriatric, huh? Your grandfather is older than Yukimaru in human years and he's Japan's prime minister," he quipped.
Yukimaru turned 17 today, just like him, since they were birthday twins. Like any equine, he's entering his senior year. But thanks to regular vet check-ups, a good diet, and monitoring for age-related changes, he's all sound, fit and healthy.
Akashi didn't ride Yukimaru when he started competing in the All Japan Young Riders Jumping Championship this year. He didn’t want to put too much strain on Yukimaru since the category had fences that were 1.3 meters or less tall.
Nozu smiled, his eyes amusedly lidded above a matching smile that was not at all friendly.
"Didn't figure this'd be as tough as wrangling you into our riding club, but it seems I was off the mark."
The Nozu family owned equestrian facilities in western Kyoto and western Tokyo. The facilities included riding clubs catering to all levels, accommodating leisure and competitive riders alike.
"Just circling back now that I'm at it," Nozu continued. "You still not quite feeling it about joining our club? My older brother and I have been bending over backwards to get you to join our club for three months now."
Ioka Nozu’s older brother, Asaya Nozu, was an Olympic show jumper and currently managed the riding club.
Last September, Akashi clinched the All Japan Young Riders Jumping Championship, a national championship for riders aged 16 to 21, even though it was his debut in the category. The equestrian community and fans across the nation were blown away. Ever since, the Nozu brothers had been bending his ear to get him to join their riding club.
"I'm flattered that Asaya-san thinks so highly of me. But for now, I’d still prefer to keep training solo, at my own pace," Akashi responded, maintaining his polite and diplomatic tone. The older Nozu was the only one worth mentioning because Akashi admired his genuine dedication and astounding achievements in equestrian; unlike the younger one here who mainly came to the arena to boss around.
Now that his stint as student council president's over, he had got a bit more free time. Not a whole lot, but some. Still, he's pretty tied up with basketball club commitments. Between him, his riding instructor, and the vet, scheduling his training, along with his equines' feedings and rest, took some serious juggling. Joining a riding club might only throw a wrench in his and the club's training rhythm.
Also, even with License A from JEF after crushing it for three years at the Junior and Young Riders Championships, he's still on the fence about sticking with equestrian sports. Sure, people said he had a natural talent for riding. But let's be real, wasn't he naturally gifted at pretty much everything? It seemed like he's destined to nail whatever he put his mind to.
"So... you're saying you're still prioritizing that common sport, right?" Sawa, who had been just observing, jumped in.
Akashi just looked over at the first-year student.
"Heard you're playing a tourney this Sunday? A classmate of mine, a basketball club member, mentioned it. Honestly, your commitment to a sport that won't bring you closer to anything, or anyone, that will matter is just...remarkable."
Sounded just as snarky as ever.
"We've certainly got differing ideas about who and what matters, and that's perfectly fine," Akashi told Sawa, not at all losing his temper.
It's true that the ultra-rich families, like his, the Nozu family, and the Sawa family, would never send their kids to play "common" sports, as Sawa put it. No basketball. No soccer. No street grit. Instead, they went with fencing, polo, equestrian, rowing, and sailing.
His very own father was an eventer, rode for Japan’s eventing team at the Asian and Olympic Games. But his deep passion for riding, the high achievements, weren't just about enjoying the sport. For his father, equestrian arenas weren't merely competition grounds; they were luxury connection hubs where deals got quietly sealed, alliances took shape, and future power got carved out. There, a handshake could alter the course of the family's fortune, and a casual conversation could open doors to entire industries.
His father put him in equestrian training when he was very young, hoping he'd get the picture early on. The sport, being expensive, invite-only, and location-bound, worked like a sophisticated gatekeeper. Only established families were in the know. It quietly fostered elite networks by subtly determining "who belongs." His father wanted him to understand that he belonged with the heirs of dynasties, the children of oil magnates, and the future CEOs of trillion-dollar empires. Unlike common sports, equestrian would introduce him to teammates who'd matter: the ones who'd control banks, governments, and global corporations.
It's really never about the sport. It's all about the circle.
Him playing basketball was a bit of an oddity, something his father wasn't really keen on. Only reason it happened at all was his late mother's coaxing, convincing his father to let him do something just for fun, with no pressure to make something of it down the line.
"Toshiyuki's got a point," Nozu said. "Isn't it time for you to figure out what really matters? If you're aware of your status and still wanna play sports, it's not smart to put everything into basketball. You're never going to be a pro player anyway."
Akashi looked at Nozu straight on.
Even without Nozu telling him, he always knew his chances of becoming a pro basketball player were practically nonexistent. First off, being a pro basketball player was never on the table for him. It wasn't a matter of lacking the skills. It's because he's set to take over one of Japan's biggest conglomerates. Being a professional equestrian athlete, on the other hand, was more than possible—in fact, it was encouraged.
And it's not like he disliked equestrian. He actually enjoyed it. After all, he loved horses. If people were sorted into groups like dog persons or cat persons, he'd be in a category all his own, something like a horse person. His sentiments regarding the sport, however, were a little complex, on account of its connection to his father.
"But, if you're all about equestrian, it's only a matter of time before you make it to the All Japan Jumping Championship I," Nozu continued.
Competing in All Japan Jumping Championship I, huh? It meant going head-to-head with the best riders in the nation. Moreover, the championship wasn't structured by age groups, but by fence heights. He felt a thrill, a natural competitive spark, at the idea of going up against full-fledged, experienced riders. But still.....
"I'll proffer my response at that juncture, then," Akashi said in a careful way.
Because if he'd arrived at that juncture, it meant he'd arrived at a state of resolute determination, no longer vacillating.
Nozu's face held a smile, a chilly, superior kind of smirk.
"I'm looking forward to a favorable response."
Akashi just gave him raised eyebrows and a polite smile, a noncommittal "I can't promise you that."
"I'd love to chat more, but I've got to go. I have an important dinner to attend," was his next response.
"You still planning on coming to the mock show we mentioned on Saturday, or not? I mean, you've got that tournament on Sunday, so......"
"There shouldn't be any problems. I'm heading out to Tokyo Sunday morning," Akashi replied. Asaya Nozu extended an invite for a friendly competition exclusively for the riding club members, a yearly winter event. He wouldn't be joining as a participant, though.
"Fantastic. I trust our budding riders will glean some valuable insights from your input."
He was invited to observe at the event, and he accepted. Besides needing to stay connected to his elite circle, he had another reason for accepting. The Nozus' Kyoto equestrian facility had a small Satsuma mandarin orchard on the property, all grown organically. Come mandarin harvest in December, they'd be selling absolutely scrumptious Satsuma mandarin jam. Plus, it's not like all the members were obnoxious kids like these two here. Many of them were skilled, enthusiastic riders, and just pleasant to be around.
"You hear me? Take a page out of his book," Nozu told Sawa, smacking his back.
Sawa made a noise that could mean a lot of things, but it was probably an annoyed tsk.
"Don't you 'tsk' me" Nozu gave Sawa a little scolding. "He cleared that 1.3-meter fence even after losing a stirrup. His canter seat without a stirrup is way better than yours with them."
Akashi's victory at the All Japan Show Jumping for Young Riders at just 16 was already quite impressive, but here's the real kicker: he lost a stirrup mid-round. Just a typical riding fluke—a balance shift over a jump that made his foot slip. But he recovered quickly and ended up winning.
Sawa rolled his eyes at Nozu's comment.
"Toshiyuki-kun has still got room to improve. I'm happy to pitch in however I can," Akashi said, looking at Sawa.
Akashi and Sawa went way back, though they weren't exactly thick as thieves, seeing as the Sawa family was based in Osaka, despite the family's company global headquarter in Tokyo. Sawa's family had been controlling a multinational CPG company ever since it was founded by his third great-grandfather back in the Meiji era.
Sawa debuted this year in the Junior category, where the jumps were 1.2 meters or shorter, but it didn't go great. He picked up four penalty points because his horse bucked sharply during the canter, considered disobedience.
Akashi happened to watch Sawa's round and could tell that the buck from his horse was due to his terrible canter seat, as Nozu pointed out. His canter seat was unbalanced. From the sidelines, Akashi could see Sawa bouncing heavily instead of moving with his horse's rhythm. That uncontrolled bouncing likely put painful or confusing pressure on the horse's back. So, it bucked. A natural defense against the irritation. An instinctive reaction to a 'predator' on its back.
He'd like to see if he already addressed the issue.
"Well then, if you'll excuse me," he repeated, wrapping things up, and off he went.
He pulled out his phone when he was sure he was out of their sight.
"Could you please fetch me from the school gate? I rather don't feel like hoofing it today. Thank you."