Chapter Text
Once upon a time, there stood a plain little house, and inside this plain house lived a family to match. A family of four, they were all as ordinary as could be. Or so they seemed.
For all through the humble rooms and the narrow halls and even the tiny garden outside, the house was held together with one of the most powerful spells in the world. But the spell was so simple, that even though the family used it every day with one another, they did not recognize its true power.
Indeed, they did not know it was a kind of magic at all.
Bzzzzt! Bzzzzt! Bzzzzt!
Furihata Kouki dreaded that sound, most of the time. He was so bad at talking on the phone. Something about the combination of trying not to sound like an idiot, and not being able to see the person who was calling, set every nerve in his body on edge.
Tonight, though, he was mostly just excited. A jolt of energy coursed through him, making his insides quiver and his heart jump around in his chest. He scrambled to his phone, and beamed when he saw the name on the caller ID.
Furihata had no idea why that name always made him feel like butterflies were dancing around inside his stomach. There was no reason to be so excited, really. He talked with this person all the time. Talking with a friend was supposed to feel normal. Maybe even boring. Right?
Then again, this wasn’t exactly a normal friendship.
Furihata took a deep breath, then answered the phone. “Hello?”
(Already he was tempted to roll his eyes at himself. “Hello”? When he already knew who was calling? Oh, well. It wasn’t like this person expected him to be smooth or anything.)
“Good evening, Furihata-kun,” said the calm, quiet voice on the other end. The voice of Akashi Seijuurou, second-year captain of Rakuzan. Somehow, Akashi could make even such a formal greeting sound warm and inviting. Furihata didn’t know how he did it.
“Hey, Akashi-kun.” Furihata’s smile widened, as he sank down onto his bed. It felt kind of strange to smile this hard, when no one could see him. “How’s it going?”
“I’m doing well, thank you,” Akashi said. Furihata wondered if he was smiling too. He had a way of sounding like it, over the phone. “And how are you?”
“Great!” Furihata said. “I mean, not that anything much is happening. But it’s nice that summer break is almost here.”
“I agree. I wanted to speak with you about that, as a matter of fact.”
“Oh. Yeah?” Furihata had a guess where Akashi was going with this. He wasn’t sure why it was causing another warm flutter in his stomach, though.
“I’m going to be in Tokyo soon, starting on Sunday. I was wondering if you’d like to spend some time together.”
YES, I WANT TO, I DEFINITELY WANT TO, said the weird voice in his head, the one that seriously needed to calm down. All Furihata said out loud was, “Yeah, sure! Did you have anything in mind?”
“Hmm, I hadn’t given it a great deal of thought. We could meet at the café in Shibuya. Or we could go somewhere else, if you like.”
Furihata nodded. In the past few months, they had met at that café a lot. He took Akashi there the first time they hung out in Tokyo. Usually, they would eat, then walk around downtown for a few hours and sit on a bench and people-watch. And talked, there was always lots of talking. (Akashi was surprisingly easy to talk to, once you got used to the fact that he was, you know, Akashi.)
One time they went to Ueno Zoo afterward, which was oddly fun—because guess what, animals were another thing that Akashi somehow knew everything about—and they even visited the gardens outside the Imperial Palace, back when the azaleas were blooming.
That last one would have felt strange with most people—who went to a garden to hang out?—but with Akashi, it felt natural. He was just the type of person who appreciated things like seasonal events and flowers. (Some of the azaleas were the exact same color as Akashi’s hair… Furihata wasn’t sure why he had noticed that. He got the feeling the other people in the garden did too. Then again, people stared at Akashi wherever he went.)
“Yeah, we could do that,” Furihata said, still thinking. “Maybe go to the arcade after. So you can beat all the games’ high scores again. On your first try. Somehow.”
A chuckle sounded on the other end of the phone. Akashi’s laugh was soft, musical. (Furihata didn’t know why he noticed that every single time.) He opened his mouth to joke about the fact that Akashi hadn’t denied it, when a thought occurred to him.
“Hey, actually,” he said, sitting up a bit straighter. “I was wondering… I mean, you don’t have to, but if you want, and have enough time… Th-that is, do you want to stay over or something?”
“Stay over?” Akashi repeated.
“Yeah. But if you think it’d be too weird—”
“Do you mean visit your home?” Akashi said. He sounded perplexed. Which was kind of odd, Furihata thought. Not really the reaction he had expected at all.
“Um, yeah,” he said. “You know. Spend the night?”
There was a slight pause. “Oh. I see.”
Normally, this would have made Furihata’s heart drop. He would have figured the person was trying to think of a nice way to say no. But this time, before he had the chance to feel awkward, he realized something.
“Akashi-kun, have you ever slept at a friend’s house before?” he said.
Another pause. “No, I can’t say I have.”
Now Furihata was smiling, in spite of himself. So that’s why he was confused.
“Really?” he said. “I’m not allowed to do it that often, but it’s pretty fun. My mom said I could have a friend over during break, if I let her know a few days before… Uh, if you want to, that is! No pressure or anything.”
It took him a second to realize he was waving his hand, in an it’s-okay sort of way. To an empty room. Where no one could see it. (Because, duh, phone call.)
So he fiddled with his pillowcase instead. Bracing for a “no.” Because maybe Akashi didn’t want to, or wasn’t allowed, or didn’t have time…
“Well, in that case, I don’t see why not,” Akashi said. “Though I wouldn’t want to impose on you or your family.”
“Really?” Furihata couldn’t help sounding excited. “Yeah, don’t worry, it’s no problem. I’ll double-check with my mom, though.”
“Please do,” Akashi said.
“Sure thing.” Furihata couldn’t resist adding, “So, your first sleepover. Guess I should be honored, huh?”
(This might have been teasing. Not that Furihata would ever tease the great and powerful Akashi Seijuurou. Never.)
“Yes, I do hope you’ll roll out a red carpet, in anticipation of my glorious arrival,” Akashi said. Furihata had a strong suspicion he was rolling his eyes. “In all seriousness, what is one expected to bring on this sort of overnight visit?”
“Bring?” Furihata blinked. “Uh, pajamas, I guess. Whatever you like to sleep in. And a change of clothes for the next day, if you want.”
“Ah. That makes sense.”
“Oh, and a toothbrush, and stuff like that.”
“‘Stuff like that’?” There was an odd tapping sound on the other end of the call. “Could you be more specific?”
“Well, you know, for anything you do before bed, like brush your—” Furihata interrupted himself. “Wait. Are you writing all this down?”
“Possibly.” There was that tapping sound again. A pen against a desktop, Furihata guessed. “I assume that’s amusing in some way?”
Furihata tried not to snort. “Uh, nooo. Just out of curiosity, do you always make lists for stuff like this?”
“Not as a rule. Though it’s useful if I plan to reference something later.”
“Uh-huh.” Furihata grinned. “Look, Akashi-kun, don’t overthink it. It’s just a sleepover.”
“So you say. But as we’ve already discussed, I’ve never been to one.”
“Right. Well, if you forget something, you can always borrow it.” Furihata meant for this to be reassuring. He doubted Akashi was the type of person who genuinely felt comfortable borrowing things, though. Even from a friend.
“…I will try to keep that in mind.”
Nope, not comfortable at all. Furihata bit back another grin, and changed the subject. They set a date for the visit, and Furihata asked Akashi how his week was going. Their conversation soon shifted to the usual topics: schoolwork, basketball, and more basketball.
They were in the middle of talking about the National Tournament, when Furihata remembered something. He rose from his lounging position.
“Oh, I’ve been reading the book you lent me.” He inched over to the stack on his nightstand. The book on the top was leather-bound, with gold embossed on the title. It looked like a movie prop. The title read, in English, Classic Fairy Tales.
“I really like it so far,” Furihata added. “And your notes for the translation are amazing. I only got stuck a few times. I asked Kagami for help, but he said the language was way too fancy.”
He laughed, and Akashi chuckled too. “I’m glad they’ve been of use. I enjoyed revisiting those stories. I found them fascinating when I was younger.”
Furihata couldn’t help wondering if this meant Akashi had read English versions like this when he was just a kid. Probably. It was unbelievable, how smart Akashi was. Sometimes Furihata still couldn’t believe he had such an amazing friend.
“Yeah, they’re all great.” He thumbed through the pages. “Some are a lot creepier than I remembered, though. I think the Japanese versions I read left out some stuff.”
“I believe most adaptations do, if they’re intended for children,” Akashi said. “The originals can be surprisingly grim.”
“Uh-huh. Like Hansel and Gretel. Their mother was so horrible.” Furihata shuddered. “And I knew The Little Mermaid had a sad ending, but it was kind of confusing… Mermaids don’t have souls, so she was going to share the prince’s by marrying him? But then it doesn’t happen and she dies… Except she becomes an air spirit or something? So she can go to heaven anyway?”
“That’s right. That particular tale has a few strange twists.”
“Yeah. But I liked all the descriptions. Like the undersea palace, and those red flowers she grew.” Furihata added, in a quieter voice, “And it was depressing, but I liked her character. That she didn’t mind how much the spell hurt her. And she wouldn’t take the prince’s life to save herself.”
“Yes, I always found that aspect of the story a bit frustrating,” Akashi said. “That the prince was so blind to her affections. He treated her like a child, when he was the one who didn’t realize she had saved him from the storm.”
“Right?” Furihata chimed in. “I’m glad Disney changed a lot of it, to be honest.”
“I imagine they must have. Though I’ve never actually seen that film.”
“What, really?” Furihata was about to add that it was great, and Akashi should watch it. He paused. Did he want Akashi to know how much he still liked that movie? When it was supposed to be for little kids?
This was Akashi, though. Who always took Furihata’s opinions seriously. Even when Furihata felt kind of weird about them.
“Well, I like that version a lot,” he admitted. “It’s fun, if you like happy endings. And the music’s great.”
“I have heard that. Alan Menken, wasn’t it?”
“Okay, how do you know that?” Furihata couldn’t help laughing. “When you’ve never even seen it?”
Akashi explained that Menken was known for being the composer for all the most famous movies of the Disney Renaissance. Except Furihata had never heard that term, so Akashi explained that too. Then they were talking about the book again, and Akashi pointed out some of the symbolism, which Furihata had missed.
Before Furihata knew it, his brother was shouting through the wall and telling him to go to bed. He was startled when he saw it was past midnight.
“I should go,” he said reluctantly. “My brother’s got a test. But I’ll see you soon?”
“Very soon, it seems,” Akashi said. “Goodnight, Furihata-kun. I hope you sleep well.”
“Goodnight,” Furihata said, smiling. “Oh, and I’ll send you my address! The house should be really easy to find. But if you get lost, there’s this one convenience store on the corner—”
He started describing his neighborhood, just in case. Then they were talking about something else, and they said goodnight a second time. And a third. It took a whack on the wall from his brother for Furihata to finally hang up.
Furihata set his phone aside, and flopped down beside the open book. Chin in hand, he started to reread some of the stories. Well, mostly he read Akashi’s notes, on lined paper tucked between each page. Akashi’s explanations were so clear and precise, and his handwriting was perfect. Because of course it was.
(Furihata had no clue how Akashi even found the time to write all this down. Just to help a friend read a book he might like. Akashi was seriously so nice.)
With a yawning sigh, Furihata lost himself in the next story. Cinderella, this time. He had always liked this one. It kind of reminded him of some of his favorite Japanese folk tales—how kindness was always rewarded in the end.
The truth was, fairy tales had fascinated him ever since he was a kid. No matter what country they came from. He used to wish he lived inside a story like that. A tale with royalty and castles and magic spells, where people weren’t what they seemed, and impossible things happened all the time.
Furihata rolled onto his back, and stared up at the ceiling. His life was the opposite of a fairy tale. He had the most typical home life ever, by Japanese standards. Quiet, ordinary. Which was a good thing, he figured, given his anxiety issues. Even the Disney versions of fairy tales had some pretty terrifying parts.
Sometimes, though, in secret… He still wondered what that kind of life would be like.
Furihata’s mind wandered back to the phone call. To Akashi, and everything they had talked about. He felt another rush of excitement. He couldn’t believe Akashi was really coming over to his house. Akashi Seijuurou, the most amazing friend he’d ever had. Possibly the most amazing person in the world.
Furihata studied his narrow ceiling with a frown. He was definitely going to have to talk to his mom about this. And his dad. And his brother.
He was going to have to warn them.
Furihata stumbled downstairs, rubbing the bleariness from his eyes. Rereading all of those fairy tales was probably a bad idea. He got a few hours’ sleep. But he felt like he had been dreaming the whole time.
He didn’t remember what the dreams were about, exactly. Something about long, dark hallways. And the sound of rain.
Not that it was weird to dream about rain lately. The TV was on in the living room, and the forecaster was talking about the rainy season finally wrapping up. Furihata was glad to see the sun shining outside the windows.
“Morning, Kouki.” His mom tossed him a smile over her shoulder, as she took a stack of dishes down from the cupboard.
“Morning, Mom.” He took the plate she offered, and started piling breakfast onto it. Rolled up eggs, sausage, a salad, and a bread roll with strawberry jam inside. Furihata always looked forward to their Western-style breakfast days.
(Strangely enough, Kagami had told him that Americans didn’t really eat any of these things for breakfast, except maybe the sausage. Apparently they had similar stuff, but it was prepared differently? Weird.)
Furihata headed over to the dining table. His dad gave him a silent nod, from where he sat reading the newspaper. Their table was crammed in the space between the kitchen and the living room. There wasn’t room for it anywhere else. But it was kind of nice to be able to see the TV in the morning.
Furihata settled into his chair, while his mom brought food over to his dad. He was trying to think of the best way to bring up the whole Akashi subject. He was about to ask if his brother had left, when a storm of footsteps thundered overhead.
His brother shot into the kitchen. All long limbs and tousled hair, and his usual effortless cool.
“Hey, thanks for breakfast.” His brother darted up to the counter. He wrapped up a bread roll and shoved it into his bag. “Gonna eat and run.”
“Again?” His mother frowned. “You said your exam was at nine.”
His brother was already chomping his way through a second bread roll. “Yep. I’m meeting up with some people first.”
His mother raised an eyebrow. “By people, I think you mean girlfriend.”
“Maybe.” His brother gave that half-cocked smile, the one that somehow let him get away with murder. Furihata had wished all his life that he could master that grin. (Though he had a feeling it was more about his brother’s charisma than anything.)
His mother sighed.
“Just don’t forget about your test,” she said, and Furihata’s father hummed an agreement. “I know it’s almost vacation. But you don’t want to have to retake it.”
“No sweat.” His brother rooted through the fridge. “It’s all under control.”
It probably was, Furihata thought, with mild chagrin. His older brother always did well in school. He never seemed to have to try that hard, either. Furihata wondered offhandedly what it was like to be in university. To not have to wear a uniform or sit in the same classroom all day long. It seemed pretty great.
Then he remembered what he wanted to talk about. It was now or never, if his brother was leaving. He gulped down another sip of milk.
“Hey, so, um…” He took a breath. “Mom, I wanted to ask you. Is it still okay if I have a friend spend the night? I was kind of thinking next weekend.”
His mother glanced up from her coffee. “Of course, sweetheart. Will the mattress be enough?”
“Yeah, that’s fine—”
“Is it Kawahara?” his brother chimed in. “It better be. I need some serious revenge. I’m still pissed how he kicked my ass at that one game.”
“Language, please.” His mother gave his brother a level stare.
“Uh, actually…” Furihata swallowed again. “It’s that new friend, the one I told you about. You know, the one who goes to school in Kyoto? He’s coming to Tokyo over summer break, and he—”
“Wait, is this the guy who gave you the train ticket?” his brother said. “That bizarre rabbit hole?”
Furihata held back a sigh. He had finally told his family how he became friends with Akashi Seijuurou. But they all got so confused by the whole convoluted story that he wasn’t sure it had been the best idea. “Yeah, that’s him.”
His mother was already frowning.
“I hope it’s not an imposition for him to be coming here on his vacation,” she said.
“It’s not! He wants to,” Furihata said. At least, I really hope he does. “He was going to be in Tokyo anyway. His family has a house here, so—”
“What do you mean, ‘a house’?” His brother knotted his brows. “You already said his family lives around here. Right?”
“Yeah, his dad does. Most of the time. I think. They, um… They have a few different houses.”
“What, is this kid loaded or something?” His brother leaned against the counter. “That explains a lot.”
His mother gave him another stare, that clearly said, ‘Don’t be rude about money.’
“Um, well…” Furihata gave a nervous laugh. Because this was kind of what he wanted to talk about. “He comes from a pretty important family, I guess. So…”
“What’d you say his name was again?”
“Akashi Seijuurou. He’s—”
“Did you say Akashi?” His father spoke, for the first time that morning. Peering over the top of his newspaper. “As in, the Akashi Group?”
Furihata blinked. His father almost never interrupted other people. “Maybe? I don’t know what it's called. But his dad runs a big company.”
“The head of the Akashi Group is his father?” Behind his thick glasses, his dad’s eyes looked even wider than usual. “Akashi Masaomi? Is that his name?”
“I, uh… I’m not sure?”
“Why are you asking, honey?” His mother looked confused.
“They’re, well, they’re in the news. Almost every week.” His father thumbed through the paper. “The Akashi Group is one of the largest conglomerates. They’re in finance, real estate, manufacturing… They’ve been buying out a lot of tech companies lately.”
He held out one of the pages from the business section. His mother took it from him, and his brother came up to peer over her shoulder. Furihata craned his neck to see. Sure enough, the name “Akashi” was there, in a large bold headline.
His father pointed to another headline below it. “They own this company too. It’s been part of the push to host another Olympics in Tokyo. They want to oversee some big development projects around here.”
His brother whistled, while his mother handed the paper to Furihata. Furihata took studied the bold headline. It said something about a meeting between a bunch of Tokyo companies. Mostly just text, but there was a picture too.
Furihata squinted down at the photograph, of a line of important-looking men in suits standing near a podium. The photo was small, grainy. But in the caption below it was a list of names. Including the one his father had mentioned.
“Akashi Masaomi, Chairman, Akashi Group.”
Furihata looked back at the photo. At the second man to the right of the podium. He didn’t stand out in any obvious way. He had dark hair, and seemed to be of average height. Kind of on the slight side. Furihata couldn’t see the man’s face well at all. But for some reason, he felt a shiver slip down his spine.
Furihata couldn’t explain it. But something was definitely familiar about him.
“So we’re talking about a zaibatsu,” his brother was saying. “Which means what? Kouki knows the guy who’s the heir?” He shook his head. “He's business royalty. Holy shit.”
“If you talk like that when he’s visiting, I’ll take you out and string you up on the clothesline by your ears,” his mother growled. “How is this boy going to think I raised you?” She looked distressed. “I need to air out the house. Everything’s so musty from the rain. And the mess everywhere… And what on earth is he going to eat?”
Furihata straightened. That was his cue, he thought.
“Just make something you always make,” he said, as firmly as he could. “Like when my other friends come over.”
“Are you sure? But those are all so simple.” His mother cradled her chin in her hand. “Maybe it would be better if I ordered something from a restaurant, or—”
“No, really!” Furihata made his voice even more insistent. “I’m sure he’ll like it. Please, don’t do anything special. And you don’t have to go overboard with the house. I’ll help clean up if you want, but just… Act normal. Please? It’s important.”
All three of his family members were staring at him.
“Whoa, kid,” his brother said. “Where’s this coming from?”
“It’s just…” Furihata hesitated. He wasn’t sure how to say it. “Akashi-kun is really nice. And he doesn’t like being treated differently. I think he’d feel bad if we didn’t treat him like a regular guest. It’ll be fine, Mom, honest! Your cooking’s great. My friends all love coming here.”
His mother nodded, vaguely. She didn’t look sure about this at all.
“Seriously, I’ve eaten with Akashi-kun a bunch of times. He doesn’t need anything fancy,” Furihata added. He went on quickly, “And he doesn’t talk about his family much. But I think it’s okay to ask him normal stuff. His mom passed away though, so… And it bothers him when people act weird or stare. So try not to. Okay?”
“Why would we stare at him?”
“Err, well…” Furihata fumbled around for an explanation.
“Is he a huge guy or something?” his brother added. “Like that one dude on your team? The ripped one.”
Furihata knew who his brother meant, of course. Akashi didn’t resemble Kagami physically. (Like, at all.) But oddly enough, that was the closest thing to an answer that Furihata could come up with.
“Well, you know how Kagami’s got this really strong presence? Like whenever he’s in a room, your eyes just follow him around without even thinking?”
“Uh, no,” he managed to say. “Not exactly. But he’s—”
“Or is this like that other one?” His brother over-emphasized the last two words. “The weird kid who doesn’t exist. Even though you keep saying Mom and Dad met him at the championship party.”
“Kuroko exists!” Furihata said with a groan. It took all his self-control not to drop his forehead down onto the table. “For the billionth time.”
“Oh, that’s right.” His mother got a distant look, like she was trying to remember. “You know, I still can’t recall what that boy looked like. It’s the strangest thing.”
“Look, Akashi-kun is kind of like that,” Furihata said. To get his family back on track, more than anything. “Just, you know… The exact opposite. You’ll probably recognize him when you see him. He was in the finals too.”
Predictably, his family only looked more confused. “He was?”
The three of them were at the Winter Cup, to see Seirin in the championship game. They didn’t have the greatest seats. Still, Furihata had a feeling his family would remember the boy with bright red hair who played better than literally everyone else. (And who Furihata guarded for a few plays.)
Unfortunately, Furihata had a feeling that if he tried to explain that right now, it would just confuse them even more. He had already tried to go into it before, when he told them about the train ticket. Besides, there were some things about Akashi that you had to see up close to understand.
“Anyway,” he continued. “The point is, it’s no big deal. You guys always make my friends feel at home. I just wanted to let you know. This, um… This is really important to me?”
He pressed his lips together. Trying not to look too worried. There was a weird pause, while his mother and father and brother all exchanged glances. His mother’s expression softened.
“Of course, sweetheart,” she said, in her most reassuring voice. “We’ll be glad to meet him.”
His father nodded, and his brother added, “Don’t sweat it, kid. We’ll be cool.”
“Thanks.” Furihata made sure to give them all a grateful smile.
No matter what he said, Furihata was a little nervous. He had no idea what Akashi would think of his house, or his family. It was probably different from what Akashi was used to. (Times infinity.)
To be completely honest, Furihata was kind of tempted to react the way his mother had. To try and fix up the place, and get something really fancy for dinner, and make everyone talk politely or something.
But he had seen plenty of family sitcoms, and that stuff never worked. Eventually, the truth always came out. (After making the guest really uncomfortable, with a bunch of goofy schemes that failed in bizarre ways.) Better not to invite that kind of plot twist.
Besides, Furihata was pretty sure he was right. That Akashi would want to be treated as normally as possible.
But it wasn’t like Furihata’s family never did awkward stuff around his friends. Maybe his brother would have one of his famous foot-in-mouth moments. Or his mom would fuss too much. Or his dad would get shy and hardly say anything. Or, or…
Furihata took a deep breath. He would just have to hope for the best. And try to make Akashi as comfortable as he could.
In the end, Furihata just had a normal, boring family. Akashi would see that right away. He was a million times smarter than some random character on TV. Not to mention it was painfully obvious.
But hopefully, he wouldn’t mind.