Archive of Our Own

When the Winter Cup ended, the captain of Rakuzan High’s basketball team, Akashi Seijuro, reverted back to his original self and made amends with his previous teammates from Teiko. There were several outcomes that could have resulted from this basketball tournament, but not a single person was able to predict this turn of events. As Mibuchi watched their captain on that fateful day approach the baby blue-haired boy from Seirin with tears in his eyes, congratulating the opposing team for the win, he knew that this was not the Akashi they were so used to for almost an entire school year. Of course, to Mibuchi and to the team, Akashi was always Akashi (or ‘Sei-chan’ in his case), but he couldn’t ignore the clear differences in personality that he noticed as time went on.

For starters, this Akashi was more social. While it was certainly not difficult for Akashi to ever strike up a conversation, there was always this feeling that he distanced himself from the rest of them. This ‘new’ Akashi had completely abandoned that cold and intimidating aura, replacing it with something more amiable. His smiles were genuine, and he was more than happy to spend time with his current teammates whenever they pleased. It was then that Mibuchi and the rest of the Rakuzan starters began to see him less as a captain, and more as a dear friend. But the most interesting thing Mibuchi observed with Akashi’s new personality was how expressive he had become. Instead of the hard mask that Akashi usually wore during school or practice, his expressions had thawed, and the Shooting Guard loved nothing more than to take his time and admire every single lovely little face he made.

…

Entranced

It was finally spring at last, and the cherry blossoms were in bloom all throughout Kyoto. Mibuchi decided that, on this day, he and the other Uncrowned Kings would go outside and play basketball. Of course, he invited their captain along, and he gladly accepted. After playing a few light matches, their wandering brought them to rest in the grassy area of the park they were in, idly chatting as they passed time. While they sat, however, Mibuchi realized that Akashi wasn’t really talking at all. Instead, he seemed to be looking up towards the cherry blossom trees. There was an almost dreamlike expression on his face; the corners of his lips curving upwards and his eyes softening. Mibuchi stared as he took in the look on his face.

“Sei-chan, are you okay?”

Akashi blinked out of his trance and looked up at his teammate.

“Hmm? Yes, I’m alright,” he said. “I just spaced out a little.”

“You did seem quite spacey,” Mibuchi noted. “What’s up?”

Akashi sighed. “Oh, nothing really. I was just admiring the cherry blossoms. They’re very pretty, especially when the petals flutter in the breeze.” As if on cue to prove the captain’s point, a sudden wind gust shook more petals off the trees, covering the ground below. Some petals flew past Mibuchi’s observing green eyes, and he marveled at their beauty.

“They’re lovely,” Mibuchi responded, keeping his gaze to the sky to watch the falling petals. “I see you have a great eye for flowers, Sei-chan.”

“They’re quite hard to ignore,” said Akashi. “It would be strange if I didn’t have an appreciation for them.”

Mibuchi took a look at Akashi’s face; that enchanted gleam in his eyes, his position relaxed, and his red hair being caressed by the wind. He had never seen anyone look so ridiculously majestic just by sitting with one leg crossed over the other and staring at cherry blossoms. He believed that Akashi always had that air about him, regardless of whether he changed or not. And as Hayama and Nebuya continued on with their own conversation, Mibuchi had long tuned them out.

He was beginning to think that the sight of their captain was more striking than any cherry blossom tree.

…

Nostalgic

It was the weekend, and Mibuchi, Hayama, Nebuya, and Akashi once again found themselves together, but this time in a restaurant. Mibuchi couldn’t understand why Hayama and Nebuya always insisted on doing something involving food whenever it was their turn to choose an activity. They could have done plenty of other things, such as shopping or playing board games. Also, seeing Nebuya wolf down a whole plate of food in forty-seven seconds (“A personal best!” Hayama had commented) made Mibuchi sick to the point of nearly losing his appetite, rendering this outing to the restaurant quite redundant.

“Could you at least chew the food?” Mibuchi complained. “You’re going to choke to death at the rate you’re going. There’s no need to eat that fast or that much.”

“Of course there is. I’m building muscle power,” Eikichi replied, as if the answer was the most obvious thing in the world. “Gotta eat a lot of food for that. I’m gonna need to order another plate soon.”

“You literally got your order less than a minute ago. You could have at least had the basic human decency to wait until everyone received their food before you started eating yours.”

“Reo-nee, calm down,” Hayama said, attempting to appease his teammate. “Our orders will be here soon anyway.”

“That’s not the point I was trying to make, Kotarou.” Mibuchi sighed. “Sei-chan, please say something.”

Akashi, sitting across from Mibuchi, glanced over as he put down his glass of water.

“Well, since the food on his plate is already gone, there’s not much I can do,” he began. “But I will say that it’s common courtesy to wait until everyone is served before eating, Nebuya. Do remember that next time.”

The large-framed teenager grumbled through a mouthful of rice. “Yeah, yeah, I get it,” he muttered.

Hayama perked up when he saw the waiter returning to their table and signaled to the other two. “Hey, hey, he’s here!” he exclaimed, craning his head to get a view of the approaching man.

The waiter had a food tray with the rest of their orders on it, expertly balanced on his hand. “One order of yakisoba?”

“That’s mine!” Hayama chirped. The waiter handed him his plate, which he gladly accepted.

“Tonkatsu?” the waiter called out next.

“Ah, that’s mine,” said Mibuchi, taking the plate from the man with a brief ‘thank you’ at the end. The waiter nodded gratefully before calling out the last dish.

“That leaves the tofu soup.”

Mibuchi glanced over at Akashi, only to see the way his eyes lit up like a kid in a candy store as he extended his arms and carefully took the bowl of soup from the waiter, thanking him before Nebuya put in another order and the waiter disappeared back into the kitchen. While Hayama had started working on his food, Mibuchi hadn’t touched his own just yet. Instead, he found himself staring at Akashi’s face, fascinated by the expression he was making.

Akashi had long stopped paying attention to the surrounding noise and was now fully focused on his soup. Using his spoon to scoop up some broth and a cube of boiled tofu, he blew once, then twice before taking his first bite. The moment he did, he let out an exhale as a small but warm smile spread across his face through the rising steam of his bowl. Mibuchi couldn’t place the expression, but something about Akashi seemed… far away, like he was reminiscing about something.

“Is your food good, Akashi?” Hayama asked in a loud voice from across the table. Mibuchi almost wanted to scold him, internally lamenting that disturbing Akashi might erase that expression of his, but contrary to expectations, Akashi remained unfazed, lifting his head and blinking slowly.

“It is,” Akashi answered. “Very good.”

His response was enough to pacify Hayama for the moment, and he went back to eating. As for Akashi, he continued to enjoy his food in silence, the smile never leaving his face. Mibuchi wondered what exactly about tofu soup made Akashi so sentimental, but if it got him to make a face like that, then maybe Mibuchi should expand his culinary skills beyond just making sweets.

…

Puzzled

The door squeaked open as Mibuchi entered the gymnasium for after-school basketball practice. Bright yellow sunlight shone through the windows near the ceiling, slowly warming him up as he went to go put his bag on the bench and begin his stretches. Since it was still the beginning of the year, a lot of what they were doing at the time was getting the new first-years up to speed with Rakuzan’s play style before they began to get into their more strenuous practice sessions that would begin occurring more frequently the closer they got to the summer tournaments. So Mibuchi would enjoy the easy mode practices for as long as he could before things got tough.

On his way to the bench, he already spotted Nebuya, standing behind Akashi to peer down at the clipboard he was holding, no doubt trying to get a sneak peek at the day’s training menu. Akashi was completely unbothered, idly greeting other teammates who passed by before looking up and finding Mibuchi approaching.

“Good afternoon, Mibuchi,” he said.

“Hello, Sei-chan! And Eikichi,” he tacked on belatedly, prompting Nebuya to give a good-natured roll of his eyes. Sometimes it was hard for Mibuchi to notice anyone else when Akashi was in sight. “What are we doing today?”

“Some warm-up stretches, to start off, and then I was hoping we could get into doing some offensive drills,” Akashi prattled off, eyes going back to scan through the papers on his clipboard. “I’ve noticed that some of the first-years struggle a bit more on breaking through defensive patterns, so I want to work on that before moving into practice matches at the end.”

“Practice matches, huh?” said Nebuya. “Which team am I on?”

“I’m afraid that’s classified information,” Akashi responded, a hint of amusement in his eyes as he held the clipboard closer to his chest. “If I tell people where I placed them, they’ll start asking me to switch them around to be with certain teammates.”

“Hey, guys! Whatcha talkin’ about?”

The three of them swiveled their heads to find Hayama approaching them from the gymnasium entrance, a smile on his face and a basketball in his hands.

“Kotarou, there you are,” said Mibuchi. “We were just talking about… Are you wearing a Miyu-Miyu t-shirt?”

“Oh, this?” said Hayama, looking down and gesturing at the young woman on the front of his t-shirt making a cutesy heart pose. “I got it when I was out shopping with Miyaji-san the other day!”

“Ah, Miyaji-san, that upperclassman who was Shuutoku’s Small Forward last school year.” He remembered that at some point right after the Winter Cup finals, Hayama and Miyaji were talking near the locker rooms and ended up exchanging numbers. But Mibuchi wasn’t aware that they were still keeping in touch. Last he heard, Miyaji was accepted into a local university to study Business and Marketing. “So you went shopping together?”

“Yep! Miyaji-san was looking for a limited-edition Miyu-Miyu keychain. So while I was in the shopping center with him, I got a t-shirt for myself.”

“I never took you for a Miyu-Miyu fan,” said Nebuya.

“Miyaji-san got me into her,” Hayama explained. “He’s very passionate about Miyu-Miyu, so it’s pretty hard to talk to him without her name being mentioned at some point.”

“I guess she is pretty popular these days. I’ve heard a couple of songs from her, like Sunny Day and Dreamcatcher.”

“That’s from her older albums, but you should check out some of her recent stuff, especially Go-Getter. It’s a little more experimental, and the concept for the music video is pretty cool.”

“I saw that one! It was all over YouTube,” said Mibuchi. “I liked the scene where she was singing in that room full of mirrors, but all her reflections were moving differently from one another.”

Hayama perked up. “That’s my favorite part, too!”

It was at this point Mibuchi noticed that Akashi had not said a word since they started this conversation, so he looked down at the younger boy, only to witness a sight he hadn’t seen before.

Mibuchi knew that Akashi wasn’t always up-to-date with certain people or trends, but this was the first time that Mibuchi had ever seen him look so visibly lost. His forehead wrinkled with the deep furrow of his eyebrows as his wandering gaze went in and out of focus, trying desperately to latch onto even the tiniest clue to figure out what on earth everyone was talking about.

Bless his heart.

“Sei-chan… you don’t know who Miyu-Miyu is, do you?”

Akashi, stiffened, finally backed into a corner now that three pairs of eyes were on him.

“No, I don’t. I don’t really keep up with her,” he admitted after a long pause.

“Of course, since you’re so sophisticated,” Hayama teased. “You like listening to people like Mozart and Beethoven.”

“Yes. I mean, no. I mean—classical music isn’t the only thing I listen to,” Akashi countered, starting to confuse even himself. “I like jazz, and ballads, and even some Acoustic Pop every now and again. However, idol music is quite upbeat and energetic, so I suppose that’s why I don’t really listen to anyone within that sphere.”

Hayama took in Akashi’s explanation, humming in thought and then nodding to himself. “Okay! Then it’s settled.”

Akashi blinked. “What’s settled?”

“What else? I’m gonna be your gateway into Miyu-Miyu.”

There was a moment when Akashi stood there, not entirely sure what to say, and Mibuchi could tell that the poor boy was trying to figure out the nicest way to word his next sentence.

“Why?” was all Akashi could come up with, and Mibuchi had to briefly cover his mouth to stifle his laughing because Akashi was so adorable whenever he wasn’t as put-together as he hoped to be.

“What do you mean ‘why’? Do you know how rare it is to teach you about something and not the other way around? I’m not missing my chance.”

“Alright, everyone. Gather round!” The coach called from somewhere behind them.

Hayama began walking over but turned his head back around one last time to point at their redheaded captain. “You’re coming to my room tonight for a listening party, and you’re not allowed to say no. Reo-nee and Ei-chan will be making sure you don’t run away.”

“I never signed up for that, but whatever,” said Nebuya, seeming at least somewhat invested in this turn of events. “I guess we’ll meet by the door once Akashi is done closing out practice?”

“Sounds good to me,” said Mibuchi, a smile on his face as he also went to join the rest of their teammates.

The end of practice could not come any quicker.

…

Sleepy

Sundays were always a personal favorite for Mibuchi. With no practice to attend and no matches to play in, he could have a well-deserved break from all the chaos of various basketball affairs. Not to say that he hated playing basketball—quite the opposite, actually. It was just that with how busy life got, especially since he and the other Uncrowned Kings started their third and final year of high school, it always felt nice to have time to unwind and breathe. As such, he cherished every free Sunday he had.

This Sunday was spent watching a movie with the usual crew in the common area of their dorm. Hayama sat by himself on the lone armchair while Nebuya, Mibuchi, and Akashi were huddled together on the small couch. Whenever they watched movies, they typically took turns choosing what they would watch. It was Nebuya’s turn on this occasion, and he picked an action movie that Mibuchi didn’t particularly care for. So, naturally, after watching the movie for some time, his eyes began to wander away from the screen, looking for a bit of stimulation, which is what led him to notice Akashi.

Despite how alert and attentive Akashi was on a regular basis, there he sat, next to Mibuchi, in a slouched position while his bleary eyes fought to stay open. Every so often, they would close completely, and Akashi would jolt himself awake when he realized what happened, only for the cycle to start all over again.

Mibuchi considered himself to be a person of great composure, but even he found it difficult to remain unaffected as the urge to squeal grew stronger and stronger. It was so uncommon for anyone in Rakuzan, let alone Akashi’s teammates, to see him in anything less than ‘captain’ mode or ‘model student’ mode. For the level of workload he subjected himself to every day, Akashi never outwardly showed how it impacted him, but today was different. Perhaps the past week was too much for him, or perhaps—like Mibuchi—he didn’t care for Nebuya’s choice of movie. Regardless, he continued to nod off, his face a picture of relaxed innocence that Mibuchi didn’t think he’d ever seen on Akashi before. It was incredibly endearing.

At some point, his body began to list to one side, encroaching on Mibuchi’s space. For a moment, all of the background noise of TV and conversation faded away, and suddenly it was just him and Akashi. Mibuchi’s heartbeat began to quicken without his permission, holding his breath and sitting stock-still as he prayed that Akashi would fall into a deeper slumber just so he could lean that much further into Mibuchi and close the gap entirely. For a split second, Mibuchi allowed himself to dream of what that would feel like. However, just as Akashi began to get closer, he jolted himself awake again, this time, sitting up straighter, probably to avoid getting too comfortable.

Mibuchi didn’t have time to mourn the loss of Akashi’s warmth before having to glance back to the TV screen and pretend like he was watching the movie. As expected, Akashi’s gaze flickered over to Mibuchi, its sharpness dulled by the remaining dregs of sleep in his eyes, but he eventually found nothing and turned back to the TV screen as well.

Mibuchi sighed in relief.

…

Playful

“Reo-nee, say cheese!”

Mibuchi was barely able to react before he saw a flash of white light, and Hayama, holding up a digital camera to his face, grinning wickedly at his own handiwork.

“Just a second! Let me see what you took,” Mibuchi demanded. He marched up to where Hayama was standing in the school corridor and snatched the camera out of his hand before checking the photo on the tiny screen. It was safe to say that he did not like what he saw, and he immediately went into the menu selection and hit the trash icon to delete the photo.

“Hey, don’t just go deleting stuff!” Hayama squawked. He tried to reach for his camera, but Mibuchi held it just out of reach.

“I’ll delete what I very well please. Especially unflattering photos of me,” he retorted. Eventually, he handed the camera back to Hayama, satisfied that he had scrubbed all traces of incriminating evidence. “If you’re going to take a photo of me, then do it properly.”

“Fine. What about a selfie with me?” Hayama suggested.

“I don’t trust your angles,” Mibuchi huffed. “Knowing you, you’d probably cut off half my face.”

Hayama rolled his eyes. “You’re no fun.”

Just then, a blur of red appeared in Mibuchi’s peripherals, and he turned to see Akashi coming out of another room, a stack of papers held to his chest—student council paperwork, no doubt. Even during mid-morning breaks, he was busy as ever.

“Ah, Sei-chan!”

At the sound of Mibuchi’s voice, Akashi halted in his tracks and swiveled his head in their direction, features softening when he finally spotted them.

“Mibuchi and Hayama, hello. What are you up to?”

“We’re taking pics!” Hayama cheerfully answered. “Can you take one of Reo-nee and me?”

“Don’t just order Sei-chan around like that,” Mibuchi snapped at him. “I only called him over to say hi, so just let him go back to what he was doing.”

“No, it’s alright. What I’m doing is not time-sensitive,” said Akashi, putting his stack of papers down. “I can take your photo, if you’d like.”

Hayama perked up at the offer, eagerly handing his camera to Akashi. “Thanks a bunch!”

And so, Mibuchi walked over to where Hayama was standing by the lockers before turning to face the camera and giving what he would consider to be an award-winning smile. Akashi counted down from three and clicked the shutter button, and after the flash went off, Mibuchi went to check how the photo turned out, only for him to be immediately annoyed at what he saw.

“Kotarou! What have I told you about giving me bunny ears?”

Mibuchi should have known it was too good to be true when he didn’t have to yell at Hayama to stand properly or to stop moving around before the photo was taken. While Mibuchi was trying to look cute, Hayama was busy trying to sabotage, shown by the two expertly placed fingers Hayama hovered behind Mibuchi’s head.

How immature.

“Aw, come on, Reo-nee! It’s just a little joke.”

“And I would laugh if not for the fact that you do bunny ears in every photo we take together nowadays. It’s stale.”

“I can take another photo,” Akashi offered.

“Oh, no, Sei-chan. You’ve already done enough,” Mibuchi reassured. “You know what? Why don’t you and I pose for a picture and Kotarou can take it?”

“Why can’t I be in it?” Hayama protested.

“Because unlike you, Sei-chan is a gentleman who knows how to behave himself,” Mibuchi quipped. “Here, Sei-chan. Come stand next to me.”

Akashi, indifferent to their arguing, allowed himself to be tugged over to stand by Mibuchi’s side. Once that was done, Mibuchi started adjusting his own uniform before he deemed himself presentable once again and posed for the camera.

“Alright, Kotarou, you can take it now.”

Like Akashi, Kotarou counted down from three and clicked the shutter button, then there was a flash. Mibuchi felt better about this photo than the last one and was confident it would look great, but when Hayama held up the camera to check the photo he just took, he snorted to himself, making Mibuchi narrow his eyes in suspicion.

“What is it?”

Hayama shot up like a spring, owlish eyes wide as he stared at Mibuchi. “Hm? Nothing.”

“Well, it’s clearly not 'nothing' from the way you’re reacting. What happened? Did I blink?”

Hayama said nothing more and handed Mibuchi the camera to check for himself, and when he did, there was nothing wrong with how Mibuchi looked. Akashi looked perfectly fine as well. There was nothing out of the ordinary in the photo. Nothing… except for the two expertly placed fingers hovering behind Mibuchi’s head.

Unbelievable.

He looked down at Akashi, and the younger boy’s mask of fake innocence cracked instantly as he began to silently giggle to himself like a mischievous kid.

Oh.

Oh no.

That wasn’t supposed to be cute.

“Sorry, I couldn’t help myself,” said Akashi. “We can take another picture.”

“Actually, I like this one a lot,” Mibuchi interjected hurriedly. “Let’s keep it!”

Shrugging his shoulders, Akashi went to gather his stack of papers from the floor so he could go back to what he was doing while Mibuchi returned the camera. However, the moment Hayama grabbed hold of it, he leaned close to Mibuchi with a knowing grin.

“What was that about bunny ears being stale?”

Mibuchi’s face felt like it was on fire as he rushed to clap his hand over his friend’s mouth.

“You be quiet!”

…

Surprised

Mibuchi sighed, staring at the almost-finished essay on his laptop screen.

It was the middle of the school week, and Mibuchi was trying to get some assignments done. When he was in first and second year, it was easier for him to spread out assignments a little more, but third year was unforgiving, and if he let anything sit for more than one day, assignments would begin to pile on top of each other, and then his entire weekend would be spent pouring over textbooks. Developing the habit of starting or even completing assignments the moment they’re given was the only way to survive and ensure that Mibuchi could maintain his sanity. But having to sit down at his desk every night—even when he was tired after basketball practice—was no easy feat, and it was hard to hold himself accountable.

“Is everything alright, Mibuchi?”

Mibuchi turned to the voice in the corner, a reassuring smile on his face. “I’m alright, Sei-chan. I just have one paragraph left before I finish.”

And then there was Akashi.

Mibuchi had let slip his academic woes when he was in the cafeteria with Akashi one day, and so Akashi had offered to join Mibuchi while he did his schoolwork during the weekdays. Not to assist him with the syllabus, but to simply be a body double. Now, every weeknight that Mibuchi had work to do, Akashi would show up at his door, most of the time bringing his own work to complete alongside him. They often finished their work around the same time, but whenever Akashi finished first, he would find other ways to entertain himself that didn’t disturb Mibuchi. Sometimes he played online shogi or chess, or watched basketball clips with earphones in. On this day, however, Akashi brought a book with him to read while he waited for Mibuchi to complete his essay.

Even though doing schoolwork was always dreadful no matter how easy or difficult, there was a comfort that Mibuchi took in Akashi being there to offset some of that stress, even if there was nothing he was actively doing aside from existing in the same room. And the fact that Akashi could have spent his night any other way but chose to spend it with Mibuchi regardless of how boring it may be, well, could anyone blame Mibuchi for swooning over that?

Mibuchi had just about finished the essay and was doing a quick proofread of what he wrote, but in the time it took him to do this, he had grown quite thirsty. He remembered leaving his water bottle on the side table next to his bed where Akashi was currently sitting, but making Akashi stop reading his book just to pass the bottle over made Mibuchi feel slightly guilty. He pondered just getting up to get the water bottle himself, but out of nowhere, Mibuchi’s phone began ringing loudly, and he was not prepared for Akashi’s reaction.

Akashi jolted—jolted—at the noise, his shoulders hunched and eyes wide as he whipped his head to the direction of the sound. One thing about Akashi was that he never got startled by anything. Since he was always vigilant of his surroundings, it was nearly impossible for anything like that to happen, especially during a basketball game. For him to startle from a mere ringtone, that had to have meant that his guard was down.

But wait, if his guard was down, didn’t that mean Mibuchi’s room was a place where Akashi didn’t feel the need to be overly observant? Was Mibuchi’s room a safe space for him?

That train of thought was interrupted when Mibuchi realized that several seconds had gone by and no attempt had been made on his part to shut off his phone, so he sprang to action, grabbed his phone from his desk, and hit the decline button. Whoever was calling him at this time was unimportant.

“Sorry about that, Sei-chan. I must have forgotten to put my phone on silent. Are you okay?”

“Oh. Yes,” Akashi said after a pause, relaxing himself once more. “I’m alright. I suppose I was just so absorbed in my book that the loud noise shocked me a little bit.”

“I can imagine. Anyway, I’m pretty much done, so you can go back to your room if you need to do something else.”

Akashi closed his book but made no move to stand. “I’m not busy tonight. So, if you don’t mind, I’d like to stay and talk.”

Mibuchi closed his laptop and allowed himself to relish this silent victory while his heart did backflips in his chest.

“I think I’d like that very much.”

…

Flustered

It was a wonder how often Mibuchi would find Akashi up on the school rooftop these days. Normally, during breaktimes, if Akashi wasn’t flitting around the hallways running an errand, he was by himself somewhere, either reading or getting in some extra basketball practice in the gymnasium.

One would think that someone as popular as Akashi would spend his free time chatting with classmates, but whenever Mibuchi would see him interact with his peers, Akashi always seemed… distant. He was pleasant and unfailingly polite, of course, but there was nothing really friendly about the interactions. There was still an invisible line between him and everyone else in his year, a line that only Akashi was aware of. Around his basketball teammates, however, that was a different story. Especially the Uncrowned Kings. After the Winter Cup, he became much more approachable, no longer raising his hackles whenever someone tried to get into his space. And a few months down the line, he had already made so much progress. It got Mibuchi to really appreciate these moments, because he knew how much it took to get to this point.

“Enjoying the view?”

Akashi turned his head, unsurprised to find Mibuchi standing by the rooftop entrance, almost as if he expected it.

“Hey,” he greeted, an easy smile on his face. He made no move to meet Mibuchi halfway, instead gesturing for Mibuchi to come to him, propping himself up on the railing with his elbows. The top button of his dress shirt was undone, his tie was slightly pulled loose, and his blazer was cast aside, hanging on the railing where it swayed in the gentle breeze.

That was another thing about Akashi that began to morph over time. While he still addressed Mibuchi very plainly by his family name, he did begin to drop a level in formality when speaking to him. No longer did Akashi answer in a robotic tone or with the complex vernacular that one acquired from being born into a wealthy family like his. Instead, he now dipped into something a little more colloquial, a little more relaxed. And Mibuchi relished the fact that Akashi was comfortable enough to do that with him now.

“Escaping from the busyness of the classroom?” Mibuchi asked once he had closed the distance between the two of them.

Akashi shrugged, reaching up to mess with his bangs. They had grown back since the Winter Cup, and now Akashi kept them at a length that was a midway point between his most recent hairstyle and the one he entered high school with the year prior.

“I can see why Mayuzumi-san liked this place so much,” he answered. “It’s quiet up here, and no one bothers you.”

“I can go back downstairs if you want to enjoy the solitude,” Mibuchi suggested.

“No, it’s okay,” said Akashi. His reply seemed a little quick, but maybe that was just Mibuchi’s perception. “I don’t mind you staying.”

Allowing himself a moment to internally rejoice, Mibuchi smiled and shuffled the tiniest bit closer. “Well then, if Sei-chan is okay with it, then I’ll stay.”

They both turned toward the view, watching students putter around campus and listening to their idle conversations float through the air. Mibuchi had never really taken in the view of their school like this, and at that thought, a strange sensation settled into the pit of his stomach.

“It’s a nice day,” said Akashi. It didn’t feel like he was saying that as a lame ice-breaker. Rather, it felt like he genuinely wanted to mention the weather.

“It definitely is,” Mibuchi replied. A cool gust of wind blew across the rooftop, ruffling his hair. “The view is pretty nice up here, too. It’s a shame this’ll be my last year to appreciate it.”

Ugh, why did he suddenly make the mood so depressing? Was he this thrown off by being next to Akashi, or was it the atmosphere on the rooftop making him so pensive all of a sudden?

Akashi, unbothered by the change in vibes, dragged out a long sigh. “Last year, huh? Sometimes it feels like it was just yesterday that I started my first year. And now, I’m almost halfway through my second, and you're almost halfway through your third. Time really does fly, huh?”

“Yes, I guess it does.” At that last part, a smile crept up on Mibuchi’s face, and he laughed without meaning to, his eyes sparkling as he recalled the memories. “Back when I first came to Rakuzan, I was so stuck-up that I could barely see past my own nose. But through playing basketball and spending time with all of you, I feel like I’m now able to see and appreciate so much more.”

“I can relate to that,” Akashi replied. “Just think about how stuck-up I was when I first came here. I believed I was untouchable, and I treated my teammates like they were disposable. It took being on the brink of defeat for me to snap out of it and see how terrible I was acting.”

Mibuchi frowned. “Sei-chan, you don’t—”

“I know I don’t have to say sorry anymore,” Akashi interrupted, but not unkindly. He stared down at his hands as he continued speaking. “I just wish I could have woken up sooner and realized what a great team I had. You guys… you mean a lot to me, but now that I want to cherish what we have, it’s as if there’s no time left. It’s a little cruel.”

Mibuchi smirked, opting to lightly nudge Akashi with his elbow. “Oh, you won’t get rid of me that quickly, Sei-chan. Just because I’m graduating at th end of the year doesn’t mean that we’ll stop seeing each other. Even if our schedules no longer match, I’ll always make time for you.”

Akashi’s shoulders relaxed a little at his reply, making Mibuchi wonder if that was something he wanted—or maybe needed—to hear.

“I appreciate that. I’ve been so busy with schoolwork and basketball that it’s been a while since I’ve been able to fully enjoy anything.”

“Well, I’ll make sure you enjoy yourself more!” said Mibuchi. “You’ve already opened up your heart so much in the past few months, and it’s been so nice to see you having fun.”

“Yes, I… guess I am having fun,” Akashi responded, slow and deliberate as if he was just coming to the conclusion at this very moment. “Letting go of all the stress has made everything enjoyable. Thanks to you, I love life a lot more now.”

Mibuchi could feel his heart soar at Akashi’s admission. To be the person he thanked for helping him love life was such an honorary title that he didn’t know what to do with himself. If anything, Mibuchi should be thanking Akashi for what he’d done.

A few years back, Mibuchi was also someone who was cagey and didn’t keep many friends, always wary of judgmental eyes and accusatory fingers. He was just floating aimlessly through his high school years, waiting for something interesting to come along.

And then Akashi showed up.

Maybe it was because Mibuchi sensed they were kindred spirits, or maybe because Mibuchi is the type to care too deeply, but he inserted himself into Akashi’s life despite the barrier between them. As they spent more time together, he began to see Akashi’s façade for what it was. But then it suddenly crumbled, and rather than being put off, it made Mibuchi want to draw closer. To stand by Akashi and let him know that he would always be there for him. Even after multiple apologies, Mibuchi would tell him that it was okay, that he already forgave him, and that he didn’t need to beat himself up anymore or try and overcorrect his personality for the sake of other people’s comfort.

It was a long uphill battle for Akashi to become the person he was at this moment, and through getting closer to him, Mibuchi could say he had also never been happier. Everything was better when Akashi was around, and the more he thought about it, the more he began to think that it was no coincidence.

He, too, loved life.

He, too, loved basketball.

And now, he loved…

He loved…

I love you.

“What?”

Mibuchi paused, confused for a second at Akashi’s comment before the realization crashed over him like a wave.

That last part wasn’t an inside thought.

He confessed out loud by mistake.

And Akashi heard him.

Mibuchi almost got whiplash the way his head snapped up to look at Akashi, his heart practically beating out of his chest. And what Mibuchi saw when he looked up was a very interesting expression on the younger boy’s face. One he thought he’d never see.

Ruby red eyes as big as saucers stared back at Mibuchi in shock, accentuated further by the red blooming on Akashi’s already pale cheeks. His jaw was slack but not fully open, as if he was about to say something but lost his train of thought before he got the chance to speak. And, honestly, the fact that Akashi had yet to say anything else was also crazy in and of itself. Mibuchi wasn’t aware that Akashi was even capable of short-circuiting like this.

They continued to stare at each other in silence, neither person daring to move an inch. It was at this point that Mibuchi started to become insecure about the lack of response from Akashi. Something heavy settled between the two of them, and Mibuchi could barely breathe.

He always fantasized about what it would be like to confess his feelings for Akashi. He pictured the two of them in a patch of flowers, or maybe out on a night in town. Mibuchi would find the right time to turn to Akashi and tell him how he really felt, and then they’d live happily ever after and walk off into the sunset, hand in hand; fairytale fantasies that he could dream about all day long. But instead, his current reality was an accidental confession blurted out on the school rooftop. Another gust of wind blew past, and Mibuchi vaguely considered just jumping off the building to escape the awkwardness.

Why hadn’t Akashi said anything back yet? Had Mibuchi tricked himself into believing that they had something special? Maybe he put too much meaning into friendly gestures and misinterpreted the nature of their dynamic.

Or maybe Akashi wasn’t attracted to someone like Mibuchi.

Maybe Mibuchi wasn’t the type of person who got a happily ever after.

It felt like an arrow pierced through his heart as he lowered his gaze, trying to swallow past the growing lump in his throat.

It was okay! He could still save this! They could still be friends! …Or could they? How could they realistically go back to normal and act as if nothing happened? Had Mibuchi just ruined everything?

“I’m sorry.”

Mibuchi shook as he said that, trying desperately not to crumble right there and then. In the back of his mind, he knew he should’ve probably said more than that, but he could barely conjure a cohesive thought, and this was the best he could do.

He wasn’t sure what he expected to hear in reply to his apology. Perhaps an indifferent hum of acknowledgement, or—even worse—a noise of disgust. But rather than any type of rejection, what he got instead completely flipped him on his head.

“Don’t apologize.”

Mibuchi lifted his head back up to stare at Akashi in disbelief. It seemed the younger boy had rebooted himself after short-circuiting some moments ago, but he wasn’t back to his stoic self. If anything, he looked unsure, as if he were treading through uncharted territory.

“I… I shouldn’t? You’re not angry with me?”

“Of course not, I would never be angry with you. If anything, I’m a little bit relieved.”

“Relieved?” Mibuchi repeated. “What do you mean?”

Another brief silence fell over the two, and Mibuchi saw the way that Akashi took a deep breath before continuing. Then, he pushed himself off the railing and turned to face Mibuchi fully.

“I’ve been… thinking a lot about our dynamic recently,” he began. “From the moment we met after I made the first-string last year, we’ve always spent so much time with one another. Of course, I spent time with Hayama, Nebuya, and Mayuzumi-san as well, but out of all the starters on our team, I’ve spent the most time with you. During that time, especially after the Winter Cup, it just kept getting easier to be comfortable around you. Even back in Teiko, before I switched, I was so wound up and felt like I couldn’t fully relax around my friends… but you’re different.”

Mibuchi swallowed past the dryness in his throat. “Different how?”

“I don’t know, it’s hard to explain,” said Akashi. “Sure, I’m more open with everyone now, but with you, it’s like I feel another level of calm and safe in a way that goes beyond my other friendships. At first, I thought that maybe I was just imagining things. But now that you’ve voiced your feelings aloud, I’m starting to think that what we have is different, and that maybe my intuition was right after all.”

This… didn’t sound real.

Mibuchi was hearing the words, but they didn’t sound real.

Obviously, Mibuchi had admired Akashi from the moment they met, but confessing to him was nothing more than a pipe dream. For the longest time, even though Mibuchi wished they were more than just friends, he was still okay with being just a friend, especially considering all the things Akashi had been through in the past year, let alone what happened in middle school. Before any romantic partner, a friend was what he needed first and foremost. That was why he lowered his expectations and tamped down his excitement whenever he thought of telling Akashi his true feelings. It always seemed like the wrong time, with Akashi being busy with a million and one different things, and adding a love confession on top of that could have been the straw that broke the camel’s back.

But then, the Winter Cup happened, and Akashi became a different person. He had become so much more expressive and open, but most importantly, he started becoming more available to his friends, physically and emotionally; and it just made Mibuchi fall for him even harder. From there, it kept getting more difficult to hide how he truly felt about Akashi, and maybe that was how they ended up in this situation. But never did he expect those feelings to be reciprocated, and now that they were, suddenly Mibuchi was all kinds of overwhelmed, and it didn’t take long for his eyes to water and spill over.

He supposed he must have looked a right mess to Akashi, because the red-haired boy immediately jumped into action, reaching into his pocket and digging around for a moment before pulling out a handkerchief. Mibuchi murmured his thanks, extending his hand to take it from Akashi, but Akashi once again threw him for a loop by brushing the hand away and stepping forward into Mibuchi’s space to gently wipe the tears himself. Overwhelmed with shock, all Mibuchi could do was stand there frozen while Akashi cleaned his face with a deep level of focus, his other hand coming to rest on Mibuchi’s shoulder. When he was done, he pulled the handkerchief away but left his other hand where it was, regarding Mibuchi with concern.

“Are you alright?”

Mibuchi sniffled, a shaky smile forming on his face.

“I’m alright. I was just caught off guard. But thank you for being a gentleman.”

“I guess I was doing what felt right to me,” Akashi said, more to himself, as if he was trying to rationalize his decision. “I hope that was okay.”

“It was okay,” said Mibuchi. He reached up to the hand that was still on his shoulder, and put his own over it, holding it there for reassurance. “More than okay, actually.”

Relief once again settled on Akashi’s features, but then he looked slightly unsure again. “If we’re going to do this—to put a label on this… do we have to act differently now? I’m sure you can tell, but this is my first relationship, so I’m a bit inexperienced.”

Mibuchi snickered lightly at his honesty, but squeezed his hand all the same. “Nothing has to change between us right away. The best part about being in a relationship is that you get to choose what works for you. We can go as fast or as slow as we want, and nobody gets to decide that but us.”

“But what happens if we ever want to go fast? Would we just naturally accelerate things, or would we have to have another conversation? What does going fast even look like? And how can we tell what stage we’re at? When is—”

Mibuchi cut him off mid-spiral by pushing his bangs out of his face and bending down to press a soft kiss to his forehead. It had the intended effect and rendered Akashi speechless, his innocently nonplussed expression making Mibuchi feel tempted to do it again just so he could keep staring at that face.

“We’ll take it one day at a time, Sei-chan,” Mibuchi whispered against his hairline.

Of course, it was more complicated than just announcing themselves as a couple. There was the question of what and when to tell their friends, how open they wanted to be with their relationship to people outside their circle, and, of course, the dreaded question of how they would maintain this relationship after Mibuchi graduated at the end of the school year, but those were questions for another day. For now, it was just the two of them in their own bubble on the rooftop, and, frankly, Mibuchi couldn’t ask for more.

Without warning, the school bell went off, signaling that they had five minutes to return to their classrooms, and Mibuchi could practically feel the atmosphere around them shatter like glass. All of a sudden, he was snapped back to reality and, instead of living out the ending of a fairytale, he was a third-year student who should probably be making their way to their upcoming math period. So, with a thin-lipped smile, he pulled away from Akashi.

“Well, I suppose I should get going. We’ll talk about this more later, okay?”

Mibuchi turned around to make his way back to the staircase that led him up here, but before he could even get a step in that direction, he felt a hand grab his own, and Mibuchi turned back to face Akashi, who was now gazing up at him through his red lashes.

“Do you mind if we stay a couple extra minutes?”

A warmth bloomed in Mibuchi’s chest at the question.

His math class could wait. After all, who was he to tell his boyfriend no?

“I don’t mind at all.”