A/N: As promised, I wrote 2nd chapter in Perfect Akashi's POV~ :3 I decided to write an extra chapter because the 1st one was entire on Kouki's POV (which means it has plot holes on Akashi's side) and I am tempted to write just how Akashi — who was oblivious of the affair between his Other Self and Kouki — starts falling for the Kouki he knows on a shallow ground and the Kouki he comes to know through the eyes of his Other Self. Yeah this is totally my guilt fic.

This is another pretty long chapter. I don't really count how many words I write, usually I just write it until I feel like I've gotten everything down. Hope you enjoy. :-)

—

the Sun and the Mole Rat

Extra Chapter: From the Bird's Eyes View

—

You're 28 years old this year, you will need to be married, soon.

Seijuurou scoffed at the sentence that sounded more like an order from a superior, than it did from a father.

Feeling irritated by the letter, Seijuurou threw the torn envelope and its contents into the thrash bin near his desk. He turned his attention towards the desk again and observed the stack of black folders sitting on top of his workspace, a neatly arranged tower of documents that surely contained photos and datas of potential brides for him.

How nice of his father, to be concerned of future business partners for the Akashi family, he had thought bitterly.

This had been going on for a while now. Once a week, his father would send a stack of marriage candidates files right into his personal office, urging him to choose one among a long list of hand-picked brides-to-be. He had been doing this ever since Seijuurou turned twenty six. Each time Seijuurou refused, his father would harshly criticise his choice to remain a bachelor, claiming that producing an heir was part of his duty as an Akashi.

It was not because Seijuurou was opposed to the idea of marriage, nor that he had a lover, that he didn't want to marry just yet. He simply didn't wish for marriage as a business contract — as the way his father had suggested, by listing in daughters of famed politicians and wealthy businessmen. Sometimes Seijuurou wondered, whether his father had married his mother for the sake of the dignity of the Akashi family, as well.

Had he ever truly loved her? When she died, he had acted as if Seijuurou's mother — his own wife — never existed to begin with.

Seijuurou did not want to become like his father; a cold and strict man who could not accept anything less than perfection.

He took a look at the top folder in the stack, picked it up and flipped it open. A photo of a black haired beauty in long-sleeved kimono greeted him. He recognised her instantly; the second daughter of the head of Kawano conglomerate with whom he had met several times in social parties. Twenty four years old, her hobbies were cooking and dancing, she currently studied in management. All the descriptions of her that he read, were carefully picked to paint her in the best light.

He put it down on the desk again, prompting a button of the speaker at the right corner of his desk, to call his personal assistant.

"Sakurai, could you come in my office and clear up my desk right away? Thank you." He heard a muttered apology and a confirmation, then Seijuurou released the button, ending the call.

He leaned back into his leather seat and sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He had no time for this, there was plenty of work to do, Seijuurou thought. Having taken over the business of Akashi family three years ago and at such a young age, came with its own pressure and stress.

There were always expectations from the very beginning, but to work with continuous effort with barely any time for personal life, had slowly taken a toll on him. And now, he was expected to get married.

Seijuurou hadn't felt this worn out in a long time.

The last time he had felt such massive pressure — he had slipped into his own subconsciousness. Seijuurou shrugged. It had bee so long, he doubted such a thing would repeat itself again. Back then he was a child, no matter how capable of a child he was, he was still human. Nobody was perfect, not even Akashi Seijuurou. Now as an adult, he understood he could only do his best to right the wrong when he made mistakes. Such was the way of the world; mistakes and failures were inevitable.

When he heard a knock on his office door, Seijuurou pushed out all unnecessary thoughts and allowed his assistant to enter.

As an Akashi, his routine was set in a regime of stiff schedule; perpetually clustered around his job and his company, with little else. Every morning, he'd wake up at six, went to wash up and changed his clothes for a morning Basketball game for about an hour. Breakfast was at seven thirty, he'd showered after he worked out and then he would eat breakfast whilst reading newspapers and updates from the business world. At eight, he'd make preparations for work and made sure he called his assistants, secretaries and staff to warn them of his impending arrival.

As soon as he arrived at the office, his staff would approach him with schedules of the day and reports from various departments. He'd listen to progress, good and bad, and proceeded to give them his directions, as it was his job. He'd worked until a bit late usually, unless business dinners or social parties were scheduled beforehand, so he'd have to leave early to prepare. Everything was going the way it had always been, for weeks, until Seijuurou started noticing oddities.

Seijuurou had an overtime one time, nothing terribly unusual — as he had always been obsessively devoted to his work. But a peculiar thing happened, because the morning after a supposed regular overtime, he'd woken up in his bed at home, having no recollection of part of the night prior. Seijuurou had remembered working in his office, but couldn't recall when exactly he'd stopped and went home.

It did not seem like he'd been drunk, else he'd have hangover by now. Plus, Seijuurou wasn't partial to alcoholic substances in the first place.

The first time the oddity occurred, Seijuurou had brushed it off, thinking he might've been too tired. He thought overexertion was the cause, thus he scheduled for some downtime. Maybe he'd invite Midorima for a friendly game of Shougi over the weekends. He hadn't seen his Teikou ex-teammates for a while, Seijuurou thought, it might not be bad to issue a gathering invitation, he'd like to catch up with the rest of them.

He'd entertained the idea of a get-together, maybe next month, when his schedule would be more open.

Except similar things began to repeat itself again, especially at night.

Seijuurou would be in one place, and the next moment, he'd suddenly be in an entirely different location. Once he was riding in his car on his way home, and the next second he stood in the middle of a crowded street, three to five hours had sped up since he last remembered. He couldn't recall anything; what he did and how he got to another place in a matter of seconds, and what happened during the wasted time. No matter how much he tried, Seijuurou could not remember.

This had repeated itself several times within two weeks.

Holes in his memories and blackouts … Seijuurou also started to notice certain lingering sensations and small evidence of what he might have done during those blackouts. Like how he suddenly felt physically worn out, yet relieved of tension, and how he discovered marks on odd parts of his body, after he'd taken off his clothes for a shower. Or when sometimes he heard a voice similar to his own, resonated from within the depths his psyche, barely audible as if submerged underwater.

Seijuurou knew this feeling very well, he could feel it — him, clawing at the surface of the joint cocoon of their subconsciousness. He could hear the voice calling for Seijuurou to let him out, to allow his body to be overtaken by another presence.

His other self, had reemerged, once again.

"Your other self have shown up again?" Midorima said and stopped mid-way, a shougi pawn in between his fingers. A second later, he put his move onto the board.

"I believe so. Although, it seems different from the last time." Seijuurou explained, he tugged the collar of his yukata slightly, adjusting the loose front.

"How so?"

"I am still here, aren't I? I did not fall into my subconsciousness, like before. Now, I merely have blackouts and holes in my memory, from the short times he took over my body. However, I do not have any recollection of it." Seijuurou crossed his arms, his hands slipped into the sleeves of his yukata.

Midorima had looked thoughtful. "How long have this been going on? It has been more than ten years since you've regained your main personality, Akashi, why now? Why didn't he remain back then, after the Winter Cup?"

"It's thirteen years ago, Midorima, and this time it has been a little over a month. And no, I do not know the reasons behind it. I can speculate, but it's merely conjecture on my part. The last time he was born, I was experiencing quite the shock." The shock of having nearly tasted his first defeat, Seijuurou added in his mind, such a childish obstinacy.

"The reason behind his birth at that time, was to bring me — to bring Akashi Seijuurou, victory. He was the embodiment of my desire to win." He finished, his gaze lowered to look at the pawns on the Shougi board, and he remembered the awful things he did and the people he hurt to justify the result of victory. Just like his father did.

Seijuurou clenched his jaw.

"And now? Are you in desperate need of constant victory again?" The jade-eyed man snorted, nudging up the bridge of his glasses.

Seijuurou furrowed his eyebrows slightly. "I'm not a child anymore, Midorima, I know life is not without its failures and mistakes. When something is broken, I do what I can to fix it, that is the way it should be."

Midorima chuckled. "Why, then? This is an intriguing case, indeed. Do you plan of seeking psychiatric help?"

"No."

A cocked eyebrow. "How peculiar. Usually men who realise such problem would try to seek clinical solution, and yet you won't. Any reason for such a rash behaviour, Akashi?"

"I simply do not want to." It was the truth.

Midorima's lips stiffened, squinting his eyes behind the lenses. "And yet we are here, sitting on your porch and playing Shougi, presumably also to discuss your problems. But you don't want a solution. Why are we here, exactly?"

Seijuurou smiled. "I missed my friends, Midorima. I haven't seen you in a while."

"… ah."

Midorima quickly brought a hand up to push up the bridge of his glasses, effectively covering part of the blush that spread over his cheeks. "I suppose… it is a legitimate excuse." He cleared his throat loudly.

Seijuurou chuckled pleasantly.

"Enough about me, how have you been at the hospital?" He stretched his hand and finally lifted a piece off of their forgotten game, resuming their match.

"Busy, as always, I haven't the time to do anything leisure. A surgeon is always needed in the emergency ward." The jade-eyed man brought a hand up to stroke his chin, thinking over his next move.

"I feel the same. At this age and with our jobs, we barely have enough time for ourselves."

Midorima snorted, picking up his next move. "Takao thinks I've been abandoning him for too long, he's sulking even as we speak, because I chose to visit you on a rare day off instead of spending time with him."

Seijuurou snapped his gaze to the other man, his horse pawn halted in mid-air. "I apologise. I didn't know."

The other man shrugged, and waved in a dismissive gesture. "We live together, Takao and I, we meet each other everyday. I haven't seen you for quite a while as well, Akashi. I rather m — missed our game of Shougi. I want to win this time." He averted his eyes, seemingly fascinated by the clear blue Sunday sky.

Seijuurou smiled.

"Thank you, Midorima. How is Takao?" He asked. "Do you have any… problems I may be able to help with?"

"Playing the father again, Akashi?" Midorima a small smirk on his face.

"We are aware we'd encounter plenty of problems and difficulties, when we started our relationship. My family still stubbornly denies my sexual preference, as usual. Takao's family, in the other hand, has been warm and welcoming. Recently, we have formally introduced our relationship to them a few months back, they are very supportive, inspiringly so. I wasn't expecting such a thing."

If there were times when Midorima would openly smile in joy, without an attempt to hide it, it would be when he spoke of his lover of ten odd years, Takao. It was such a rare occurrence, that Seijuurou opted silence so he could observe the honest bliss on Midorima's visage. Because it always lasted for under a minute, before Midorima realised his slip and started clearing his throat, in an attempt to regain his aloofness.

"… ehem, so. I'd like to ask for a favour, Akashi." He'd said after he cleared his throat.

That was unusual. It wasn't often that Midorima would ask Akashi for personal favours.

"What is it, Midorima? Do feel free to tell me."

He pushed the bridge of his glasses. Seijuurou could detect the minute trembles of his fingers.

Midorima inhaled deeply, presumably gathering his wits about him. "Next year, I plan to bring Takao with me to the United States of America. We're going to — to marry, there. W — what I want to ask of you is, will you be our witness? Surely, my father will not be attending, so I'd like you to do the honour, instead."

Seijuurou's red eyes widened slightly, eyebrows raised. He had not expected this, but the revelation brought a joy in his heart. "I'll be most honoured, Midorima. Yes, yes of course I'm willing to be your witness! I'd be happy to. My sincere congratulations, for you and Takao." He felt a pleasant sort of warmth raised from within him, when he saw his old friend smiled in relief.

"Thank you, Akashi." Midorima sincerely said. "I'd like to keep the ceremony private and small, but Takao wants to invite the rest of our ex-teammates as well. However, I am not sure, the tickets would be very expensive. Perhaps we will hold an official party when we get back to Japan."

Ah, the sparkles he saw behind those lenses. How could Seijuurou resist?

"Of course. I will arrange it, if you'd let me." Seijuurou offered.

"I'm thankful, Akashi." Midorima had said.

In the back of his mind, Seijuurou wondered how it felt to love someone so deeply, the way Midorima would give up everything to be with Takao, despite the opposition from his family and the ever judging society. He wondered if he could have something like that.

Marriage. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to take it into consideration, Seijuurou decided.

—

This was the seventh marriage meeting he'd been to.

To be honest, he was bored. Not disappointed, he meant, the lady was wonderful. Well-bred to be a lady of high class society, she was also beautiful and elegant. Just like the ladies he encountered in the last six meetings. He had been doing this for a little over three months, after he agreed to the arranged marriage scheme.

Even after the seventh time, he hadn't managed to feel anything for any of them, so far. None of them made a lasting impression, something was always lacking. For example, the lady's fair skin didn't sit quite right with Seijuurou, or that her hair was too dark or light in colour, or she was too short or too tall in heels. Since when did he start being so picky? Surely, it was rude of him to judge by appearances alone. But even the lady's demure femininity did nothing for him.

In the middle of a long, formal dinner, Seijuurou had excused himself to go to the restroom and distracted himself with plans for a gathering with his Teikou ex-teammates that he had set aside for a while, in favour of these failed marriage meetings. Kuroko, Kise and Midorima texted him back after a few minutes, while Aomine and Murasakibara hadn't responded.

In a passing whim, he told the other three he was attending a marriage meeting at a hotel, in downtown Tokyo. Seijuurou was slightly intrigued to read a text from Kuroko, he was having dinner with his Seirin ex-teammates, nearby the area of the hotel. What a coincidence.

As soon as he remembered he couldn't make the lady wait for too long, Seijuurou closed his phone and left the men's restroom.

—

By the end of the dinner, Seijuurou was too worn out to go back to his apartment.

It was already 10.30 A.M., and the hotel was fairly close to the office, so he opted to spend the night there. He picked a suite room with an adjacent door, for his bodyguards to stay, in the next room. He was done with the reservation for the night and he was about to call in his butler to inform him of his decision, when his cellphone buzzed with a new call. Seijuurou had looked at the screen, wondering.

"Akashi Seijuurou speaking." He greeted after he accepted the call.

"Good evening, Akashi-kun. I'm sorry to bother you so late, are you perhaps, busy right now?" He heard his former teammate said, from across the line.

"No, I've finished with my business some hours ago. What is it, Kuroko?"

He heard noises and chatters in the backgrounds, but not loud enough that he couldn't hear Kuroko's voice clearly. He assumed Kuroko must be in somewhere in a crowded junction, Seijuurou concluded from the shouted orders of food and drinks in the backgrounds, that he'd caught from the call.

" — oi Kuroko, my arms're getting tired here."

He also heard familiar a familiar voice — Kagami Taiga, he assumed. The loud and brash way he spoke didn't escape his notice.

"Um, Akashi-kun, I'm very sorry for this, but Furihata-kun is very drunk. Kagami and I do not know where he lives presently." Kuroko's voice was back in line again.

"Furihata…?"

"Furihata Kouki-kun. He is a former Seirin ex-teammate, Akashi-kun. Do you remember, back in highschool?"

For some reasons, Seijuurou did.

The name sounded awfully familiar and nostalgic, but Seijuurou didn't know why he felt that way. The only Seirin Club members he had kept in touch with, for the last ten years, were Kuroko — and by extension, Kagami, because the redhead was always present by Kuroko's side. He could barely remember the rest of the Seirin team, how could that one name rang so familiarly in his mind?

He remembered dark brown hair, with a slightly lighter shade, and wild spikes that were surely styled with hair gel. His eyes were big with irises that were too small, anxiety shone on them, but with a gaze that refused to run away, despite the fear. And Seijuurou remembered his skin colour, tan and lightly sun-seared, surprisingly soft to touch.

Seijuurou didn't understand why he knew all these things.

"Ah, yes. I… I remember." Akashi finally said, unsure.

"Yes, um, I'd like to ask for help, Akashi-kun. Kagami and I commute by train and we cannot bring Furihata-kun with us, as we live far from this district. Your text said you were having dinner nearby, Akashi-kun. Are you still around the area?"

Ah, so it was because of that. Seijuurou did think it was an odd coincidence, that they just happened to be in the same area.

"Yes, I'm still at the hotel. Actually, I am planning to stay for the night. Where are you? I can drive there to pick him up, if you'd like, Kuroko."

He didn't exactly know the reason why he offered to help. But his interest had been picked, Seijuurou wanted to know why this Furihata Kouki seemed to nudge at the back of his mind. He hadn't felt this interested in another person for a while, towards a stranger even. It was simply ridiculous, that he could not resist.

"Ah, thank you Akashi-kun. This really helps us, I really appreciate it. I will text you the location, if you don't mind."

"Of course, Kuroko. Anytime."

The call ended. Seijuurou then phoned his driver to get the car ready in ten minutes.

The restaurant Kuroko texted him was merely five to seven minutes of car ride, from the hotel. Akashi had not been able to get this Furihata Kouki out his mind, mouthing the name under his breath and feeling it roll so naturally to the tips of his tongue. Furihata Kouki, he thought as his mouth uttered the name, Furihata Kouki. Kouki. Why? Why did his name feel so familiar, as if Seijuurou had said it a thousand times over?

His driver declared their arrival, snatching his attention from the private room of his thoughts. Seijuurou nodded and thanked him, then stepped out of the car. The autumn wind brushed against his face as he did. He tugged the collar of his cashmere coat to close the gap at his front. He took his phone out and called Kuroko to inform them of his arrival.

A few short minutes later, Kuroko showed up from the small Japanese shop, Kagami trailed behind him, carrying a limp body of another man by the shoulder. The redhead didn't look too thrilled about it. Kuroko approached Seijuurou, who was still standing by the car, he'd looked apologetic.

"Thank you for coming here, Akashi-kun. And I'm sorry to make you wait, Furihata-kun fell asleep on the table." He'd said, blue eyes darting at the scene behind him.

Ah, so that explained why the redhead seemed so displeased.

"No problem, Kuroko." Akashi said, smiling reassuringly.

"I really appreciate it, Akashi-kun."

"Seriously, my arms are getting sore here! You two wanna talk and have teas until I'm old or something?" Kagami had shouted at them, wobbling in his steps as he manoeuvred his way towards Kuroko and Seijuurou, an extra weight on tow.

Kuroko only sighed.

"I'm sorry Kagami-kun, you know I'm not good with lifting weights. I would've dropped Furihata-kun if I tried." The blue-eyed man said, pouting.

"Shit — I know already! Don't look at me with those eyes! You know I can't refuse you like that … "

Kagami's face reddened, expression guilty.

Seijuurou watched in amazement at the exchange. The way Kuroko and Kagami argued could almost be mistaken as flirting, it was amusing to observe. He cleared his throat to get their attention, remembering the hours were getting late as they spoke.

"Ah, should we wake up your friend first…?" He suggested, gaze turned at the sleeping form of Furihata Kouki, whose eyes were closed and face flushed with alcohol.

"Oh yeah. Hey, Furihata, wake up would you? Come on, dude." Kagami shook the brunette rather brusquely, Furihata's body swayed back and forth with the redhead's brute force.

After a few wide shakes, Furihata slowly opened his eyes, groaning incoherently. He'd looked disoriented and groggy, half-lidded gaze turning around to Kagami, Kuroko and finally stopped at Seijuurou. The other three watched as a wide, goofy grin brightened the brunette's visage, when he took a look at Seijuurou, eyes squinted in slits and face flushed pink.

"Seijuurou-san! You came for me!" The brunette exclaimed, pushing Kagami off of him.

Seijuurou was surprised when Furihata staggered towards him, arms spread out in a welcoming gesture. And as soon as he stepped into his personal space, Furihata threw his arms around Seijuurou's head and embraced him, pressing his face against his chest. The brunette giggled as he looked up at him, the grin on his face mesmerised Seijuurou.

"I wanna see you… I missed you so much, y'know? I'm still pissed off with you but, but I wanna see you, too." Furihata whispered childishly, his words only audible to Seijuurou's earshot. Then he stood on the tips of his toes and pressed a kiss onto the taller man's cheek.

Two gasps. Both from Kuroko and Kagami — the latter's jaw dropped and mouth agape. Seijuurou was too stunned to respond immediately. Furihata giggled again and muttered a proud, "Gotcha!"

Kuroko seemed at loss of words, his usual aloofness slipped off by a degree.

"Um, I'm sorry Akashi-kun, he's drunk a lot more than usual tonight. He's not usually like this when drunk, I assure you." He'd tried to explain, obviously worried Furihata's actions would offend the Seijuurou.

In fact, it did not offend him at all — much to Seijuurou's surprise. When Furihata wobbled and almost trip on his own feet, Seijuurou quickly brought a hand to his waist to steady him, another hand on the shoulder to prevent the brunnette from swaying too much.

"It's okay, I understand, Kuroko. I will take care of him for now." He simply said, his gaze observed Furihata's disoriented features. He didn't quite understand why it had fascinated him so.

Kagami and Kuroko looked at each other, the redhead seemed unsure, but Kuroko turned to Seijuurou and nodded.

"Please do, Akashi-kun. And thank you again." He said.

After Seijuurou ushered the brunette into the car, he opened the passenger window and bade the other two goodnight. Kagami had a conflicted look on his face, and Kuroko thanked him again. Then Seijuurou told his driver to take off.

Furihata sat to his right, shoulder leaning heavily on Seijuurou. He looked dazed and unfocused, eyes kept closing and opening like he'd fall asleep any moment soon. Seijuurou observed him closely, finding the shared warmth connected by their shoulders to be pleasant. He found interest in the surprisingly long lashes Furihata possessed, and the way his parted lips muttered softly.

Then Furihata shifted and turned his head towards Seijuurou, eyes heavy with lethargy.

"Seijuurou-san, where are we going?" He slurred, blinking slowly.

Seijuurou smiled at him. "We're going to the hotel, you can sleep there all you want."

Furihata hummed, sticking out his upper lip. Then he laughed, grinning like a kid. "Seijuurou-san, you're so nice today. I like you."

He didn't know why he'd suddenly stopped breathing for a few short seconds.

"Thank you… Furihata." He'd said, unsure.

The brunette pouted.

"Call me Kouki!" He demanded, bringing up a limp fist to pound at Seijuurou's arm lightly. He muttered something incomprehensible under his breath.

It seemed like Furihata was the type to get overly attached when wasted, Seijuurou concluded, his demanding, childish behaviour seemed rather adorable. Furihata yawned widely, his teeth clanked as he munched. Seijuurou couldn't help but to put a hand over his head, and stroked the brunette's hair in a soothing pace.

"You can go to sleep now, if you want," He told the brunette. "When we arrived, I'll ask some people to help bring you to the bedroom."

Furihata hummed again, staring dazedly at Seijuurou. He yawned some more, then leaned his head on the taller man's shoulder and fell asleep.

—

"I'm very sorry for this, but I must go to work now, Akashi-san. Thank you very much for taking care of me!" Furihata bowed deeply to Seijuurou.

"No, it is quite alright." He had said reassuringly, and the brunette looked like he was about to cry.

Furihata's clothes were messy and wrinkled, he clutched his bag against his chest tightly. "Thank you, once again. And um, see you later, Akashi-san!" He bad a hurried good bye, bowed once again and bolted out of the door, running.

Seijuurou felt sorry for him. Maybe he should've set the alarm the night before, but he didn't think of it at all, since he had informed his assistant that he'd be late for work today. That gave him an idea, Seijuurou realised, he could call Furihata's superior and issued a permit for him. After all, Furihata was one of his employees. He could use some leeway from time to time, so Seijuurou picked his phone and dialled his assistant's numbers.

He told Sakurai Furihata's name and his assistant searched the database for his details, Seijuurou then asked Sakurai to redirect his call to Furihata's superior instead of instructing his assistant to do it for him.

Later on, he learned Furihata made it to the office safely, and Seijuurou had smiled to himself.

—

It was the ninth marriage meeting he attended.

"I don't love you, Seijuurou-san, and I don't expect I will fall for you anytime soon." The lady had said to him, as they walked leisurely along the hotel's famed Zen garden.

He was taken by a surprise, by the bluntness of the young lady, who was now looking at him. He was at loss of words, but quick to regain his composure. He'd looked at the blonde-haired, blue-eyed beauty, and felt intrigued by her. This was the first time he met a woman who'd daringly told him something like that.

"Would you care to tell me why?" He'd asked politely, with a smile.

She tilted her pretty head to one side. "You don't look like you want to be here, Seijuurou-san, and neither do I, really." She pointed out, surprising him even further. "I know for a fact that you don't love me either, two people cannot fall in love based on one meeting."

"Is… that so? Am I really that obvious?" He couldn't help but to ask.

She had laughed demurely, covering her mouth with a hand. "Oh, I'm sure the other ladies were too lovestruck to notice, don't worry. You're a very charming and handsome man, Seijuurou-san."

Well, she made a good point. Most of the ladies Seijuurou had met paid little attention to his mood, too occupied talking about themselves mostly. "Ah, I suppose, but am I not attractive to you?"

The laughter died down.

"It is not you, Seijuurou-san. My father wants this marriage meeting to work between us. But I — I am in love with another man." She confessed, gaze downcast. "But it is impossible to stay with him."

If he wasn't wrong, her father was a businessman who came to a financial crisis until recently. The business had picked itself up and in the process of recovery, marrying into the Akashi family would indeed be beneficial to her father.

Seijuurou felt the need to comfort her. "Have you talked to your father about your lover? I am sure he would want you to be happy with the man you choose."

The blonde shook her head slightly. "No. My lover left me as soon as he learned of my family's possible bankruptcy, perhaps he had been in it for the fortune from the start." She smiled bitterly.

They chatted for a long time, hours passed by the time they finished the meeting. It was the first time Seijuurou met a lady who'd not seen him for the superficiality of his position as the heir of Akashi family. Even though he wasn't particularly romantically attracted to her, he felt she could be the one he would come to love eventually.

A few days after the meeting, Seijuurou contacted her and scheduled a dinner date.

—

Seijuurou had recurring dreams.

The images of the dreams were heavily grainy and blurry, he couldn't tell what the images were. When he awake he would be left wondering in the morning, of the dreams that seemed to repeat every time he went to sleep. At first, he thought it was nothing, but after a week or two of the same, grainy and blurry dreams, night after night, he found himself attempting to decipher what it was. The dreams seemed to get clearer after a while, but he still couldn't make anything out of it.

He remembered brown hair, slicked in sweat, and long lashes of the same colour. He could see a blurred form of a person, lean muscles stretched and bent, and he remembered voices — small and broken, gasping for breath. Seijuurou felt a lump in his throat, when he realised he might've been having wet dreams, and he was suddenly ashamed. He hadn't have one of those since he was fourteen. And he had been dreaming the same thing every night.

He couldn't see the images very well, but he could feel it. It was always the same person in the dreams, he assumed, short brown hair and brown eyes. The skin that felt supple but slightly dry to touch, moistened with sweat as they moved in a blur of erotic passions and illicit sensations — He could feel it so vividly in the dreams, that he started waking to morning woods in his bed, left to deal with this problem, in the aftermath of the dreams.

Seijuurou had never felt so sexually frustrated.

He had no lover for quite a while, and had been far too busy with his job, to have the time to look for one. Even if he had someone in mind, it would be improper to do such a thing in the early stages of their relationship. He had no choice but to settle the growing urges by himself, in the bathroom.

Seijuurou had also noticed the blackouts were getting lengthier in time, sometimes finding he had skipped a full day more and more often. He still didn't do anything to stop it — or to cure his infliction. He did not know what his other self had been doing without his knowledge, but he could be sure that that even he would not be so stupid as to do anything rash or scandalous, to ruin the Akashi name.

At times, he found bite marks and hickeys in odd parts of his body, and came to a belated conclusion that his other self might have gotten a lover. That would explain the increasing blackout period; he was spending time with his new lover. Seijuurou found himself wondering. It had dangerous potentials that things may end disastrously, if people found out Seijuurou was two-timing between his other self's lover and his own fiancé-to-be. They wouldn't understand the reason behind it, that within his body, resided two different personalities.

Yet he decided to do nothing.

He knew that unlike before, he hadn't fully regained their joint connection yet and thus he couldn't have known who was the lover of his other self. He felt that in time, when their former connection had recovered, Seijuurou would right the wrong that had been done, for the sake of his brother's lover and Seijuurou's future bride.

He was sure there must be a way to settle things without hurting anyone.

—

The marriage talks had been going smoothly. Seijuurou had formed a close friendship with his future bride.

It hadn't become that of a romantic kind of relationship, because she was still in love with her ex. But Seijuurou didn't intend to force the issue. She was still heartbroken, he understood that and respected her space. In a matter of weeks after they met in an arranged meeting, Seijuurou was introduced to her ecstatic parents. Seijuurou had informed his father of their plans, and received a formal letter that cited a permission to marry.

The engagement party would be held in the following weeks, it had been a swift decision, so Seijuurou hadn't the time to tell his friends. He chose to inform them by special invitations, personally sent by himself.

They went to the jewellery store on a Sunday to pick a ring. He suggested a large blue sapphire that matched her eyes, and she had thanked him politely. They would start planning for the wedding after the engagement party. Seijuurou didn't want to rush the wedding due to his promise to Midorima, it wouldn't be polite to overshadow the happy couple, and she had agreed to his decision.

When he thought how different his situation was, compared to Midorima's relationship — his was a lukewarm, passionless affair without risks of scandal. A perfect marriage for the Akashi family. Not at all like the risqué relationship Midorima and Takao had; tumultuous and passionate, with a lot of difficulties ahead of them.

Sometimes, Seijuurou also thought about his brother's lover. Did his brother love his lover? Did their relationship full of passion, love and everything else that made Midorima's love to Takao so desirable to Seijuurou?

Was Seijuurou going to ruin his brother's chance at happiness? How could he tell his lover that they couldn't continue their relationship anymore?

The thoughts immensely unnerved him.

—

Even when he stood there, on the stage, in his very own engagement party, it didn't feel real.

He had a smile on his face and as he looked into her eyes, slipping the ring into her finger. Yet he felt nothing. He knew he did not love her, but he didn't deny the possibility of the love that could grow in time. So he smiled in front of the camera, in front of the gasping crowd and his closest friends. He held her slim waist as they stood next to each other, looking very much like the perfect ideal couple.

He didn't love her.

She didn't love him.

It didn't feel real.

—

Brown hair spread across the sheets, scattered wildly. The lean body flushed red and moist in sweat, his chest heaved up and down frantically, and back arched into a beautiful bow. The taut muscles beneath him trembled, as Seijuurou urged inside further, fast at first, then slowed down into long, even strokes.

He enjoyed how it made him shake, calling Seijuurou's name over and over again with that adorable voice of his — raspy and thick with lust. The sheets rippled and twisted with their movement, as if they were making love on a sea of pure white sands.

He loved it.

He relished in the pleasured moans and gasps and his name called out in short groans, breaking into whimpers at the tip. He loved the noise of the bed creaking violently beneath them, and the sounds of flesh slapping against flesh obscenely. He loved the way the body beneath him trembled and shook. Those red, moist lips parted as he gasped for breath, and the tears that overflowed from pleasure were like drops of two carat diamonds.

Those brown eyes, wet and half-lidded, big with irises that were too small, and the minuscule drops of tears that clung onto surprisingly long lashes. The gaze that looked at him anxiously, yet filled with love and affection for Seijuuro. He loved it all.

And the way his name rolled to the tip his tongue, like music to his ears.

"Seijuurou-san…!"

Seijuurou woke up with a violent jerk that pulled him out of his subconscious brusquely, leaving him with a rapidly beating heart, and lungs that were suddenly deprived of air.

He sat in his bed, taking large gulps of air in long gasps, desperately. His hand crawled up and clenched at the front of his shirt, just over his chest, feeling as if his ribcage was squeezed shut. Beads of sweat trickled down Seijuurou's temples, his hair was soaked through and so did his shirt, as if he had run ten miles in minutes. As his heart rate slowed down and his breaths quietened, Seijuurou brought a trembling hand onto his mouth. His jaw was stiff and tight, teeth clenched.

He had the dream again. But this time it was so vivid — the images were clear as water, the noises distinct and the sensations, life-like. Everything — everything felt absolutely real.

The body underneath him, flushed red and glistened, trembling and arching in pleasure. The same person, brown hair and brown eyes. Seijuurou couldn't have mistaken, that face — Furihata Kouki.

"Furihata Kouki… Kouki. Kouki."

When he uttered the name, a shot of pain stung him from deep within his mind. A sharp, excrutiating ache. He could feel him violently clawing at the surface of their subconscious, screaming in agony, screaming for Kouki. And suddenly Seijuurou understood everything. Kouki was the one his brother was in love with. He was the secret lover he had been seeing.

And Seijuurou had crushed their love, unknowingly.

The pain escalated, stabbing him through the heart, from inside out. He was experiencing the full force of agony from his other self, his heart tormented in a deep anguish Seijuurou felt only come second to the day his mother died. Seijuurou could hear the screams and the sobs echoed from within the cranium of his head, vibrating throughout his whole body. He heard the wild beast within him howled, long and pained, like a wounded animal.

Drops of tears began to spill from his eyes, rivulets trickled down his face, staining the bed sheets in large, wet blots.

The pain of a broken heart.

"I'm sorry… I'm sorry." He whispered as he sobbed faintly, pulling the sheets closer to him. The screams in his head continued, he heard a voice too similar to his own cried out pitifully, breaking down in whimpers and wails. He could hear his agony, felt the heart that was breaking apart minutely. Seijuurou wept for his brother's pain, and for the pain he had caused Kouki.

"Forgive me, little brother."

—

The next morning, Seijuurou went down to the third floor, in search of Kouki.

But instead of finding him, he was told that Kouki had quit his job nearly a month ago. When he heard the news, Seijuurou had felt his blood freeze solid in his veins — Kouki left, he thought to himself, hearing a groan of anger resonated in the back of his mind. He didn't understand. Why did Kouki leave?

Realisation dawned on him, but of course Kouki left.

At the party, when Kouki learned of his engagement, he must be broken hearted. Now that Seijuurou was engaged to be married, there was no way he would've stayed, was there? It made sense. Kouki wanted to get away from Seijuurou — to escape from the bitter end of their 'relationship' and start fresh.

He left without knowing Seijuurou was the cause, that Seijuurou was the one who'd destroyed their relationship. He was the one who hurt Kouki and his brother, so viciously.

No, he refused to give up. Seijuurou must explain everything. He must right the wrong he caused, he must fix the problem — he must apologise to Kouki. He asked for Kouki's address, but found out that Kouki had also moved out of his flat two months prior. Seijuurou didn't know what else to do, not when Kouki had gone to such lengths to cut their ties and to avoid Seijuurou. Kouki must never want to see him again, at all costs. And Seijuurou … he had to respect that decision. He had to stay away, for Kouki's sake, because it was his wishes.

Even though it was painful, the weight of the guilt and the agony of his other self. Seijuurou did not wish to inflict further pain on Kouki, even if it meant he had to hurt himself in the process. Enough was enough. He must accept this, and move on.

—

"Seijuurou-san, what do you think of these?"

Seijuurou snapped out from his daze, he turned to face his fiancé, who was looking at him expectantly. He hadn't been paying attention to what they were doing — he tried to recall. Ah, the wedding plan. She had invited him out for a meeting with the wedding organiser, to choose curtains or something similar to that, he couldn't seem to remember.

"Pardon me, could you repeat what you were saying?" He politely asked, feeling a bit ashamed of himself.

"I was saying about the colour schemes for the wedding… Seijuurou-san, are you alright? You don't look well." She gave him a concerned look, she brushed her palm against his cheek. And she widened her eyes. "Oh my, you're quite warm, are you feeling alright?"

Truthfully, he hadn't been able to sleep lately. Every time he closed his eyes, Seijuurou would dream of Furihata Kouki. He would wake up in the middle of the night, and would be unable to sleep afterwards. This had been going for a few days.

"I… it might be because I've worked too hard lately. I'll be alright. I'm sorry for not paying attention." He offered his fiancé an assuring smile. She didn't seem to believe him.

"Seijuurou-san, you should be resting now, if you don't feel fine. We can do this another day." She said, turning to the organiser to ask for a reschedule.

He felt guilty. "No, I'm sure I can manage a few hours of outing." He tried to assure her, but she was having none of it.

"Seijuurou-san, please, it is quite alright. Be more concerned for your health, I ask of you. I will call your driver to take you back home."

He couldn't refuse her offer as she had whipped out her phone and dialled in his chauffeur's numbers. A few minutes later, he came to pick up Seijuurou, and he was forced to comply to his fiancé's wishes. Seijuurou hadn't wanted to rest, nor had he wanted to be alone with nothing to do, as it reminded him of the unpleasant things. The silence bounced his attention to an unwanted reminiscent of Furihata Kouki's voice — the way he begged and moaned and gasped alluringly in his dreams.

Seijuurou shook his head, feeling guilty out of a sudden. He shouldn't be feeling like this for Kouki, it wasn't fair to his fiancé or his brother.

But the Kouki in his dreams was lovely. The dreams weren't always about sex. It wasn't always about Seijuurou — or his other self — making love to Kouki passionately. The dreams were in its most vivid state, when it was about the ordinary things, like the way Kouki looked at him lovingly. Brown eyes squinted in joy when he saw Seijuurou and the way he laughed openly like a child, or the way he loved to eat his meals vigorously, beads of rice stuck at the corners of his lips.

And it was the ordinary things, the way Kouki smiled at him or his eyes that gazed at him longingly, or his blushing face, that made Seijuurou feel all the more guilt-ridden. Because they were the memories he'd reacted to the strongest, even though he knew those weren't directed at him. The one Kouki loved wasn't Seijuurou. It was his other self.

Seijuurou knew, but he couldn't stop himself from wishing, that they had been all for him, instead.

—

The Kouki in his dreams was so sweet.

With a gentle voice and a loving tone, he would call him, "Seijuurou-san," in a way that was different from how his fiancé did, in a way she couldn't make him feel. In the dream world, both of them laid in Kouki's bed, the cramped space forced them to enclose their distance. Kouki was sprawled on top of his own nude body, gazing into his eyes and smiling goofily.

Seijuurou stroked his hair in a leisure pace, and Kouki leaned to his touch, his smile blossomed like a spring flower. He couldn't contain his feelings for him, so they kissed and made love, Kouki rode on top of him whilst Seijuurou watched eagerly.

In another dream, he'd found himself watching Kouki as he slept by his side. The minutes paced too fast, and he felt a distinct sadness when he knew he had to leave soon. For some reasons, Seijuurou felt he had to leave when the sun rose in the east. But he didn't want Kouki to wake up to an empty bed, so he waited, and he savoured his lover's visage, wishing he did not need to leave.

He wished he could stay longer, far, far longer. His heart grew heavier everytime he walked out the door and when he saw Kouki's face fell into that of loneliness.

There was a time when he found Kouki cried, and Seijuurou had been stunned silent.

Kouki had glanced at him as he sobbed, he hugged his folded knees as he sat on the corner of his bed, back against the wall. He approached Kouki, but didn't know what to say or what to do to help him feel better, so he just sat next to him, on the edge of the bed, quietly. The air was heavy and awkward, and Seijuurou wanted nothing more than to stop his tears, but found himself unable to. He could only offer to hold Kouki's hand, placing his tentatively over the brunette's.

Kouki had looked at him, wet eyes widened in surprise, and ever so slowly, a smile rose on his lips. Seijuurou had never thought puffy eyes, runny nose and blotched face were attractive, but he thought Kouki was adorable, when he cried and laughed at the same time. Seijuurou felt extremely relieved when Kouki stopped crying.

Kouki was the perfect lover.

He never asked for anything and never demanded things from Seijuurou. He just kept on giving joy after joy to him, never asking anything in return other than Seijuurou's affection. Even when Seijuurou knew that he was sometimes, difficult to deal with, Kouki wouldn't complain, but he would sulk openly to let Seijuurou know he was upset. Seijuurou had thought it was strangely charming of him.

Kouki's love was an unconditional love, a love that didn't expect anything in return.

He reminded Seijuurou of his mother; gentle and kind, only wishing for his happiness. He hadn't known of this feeling in such a long, long time. He felt like he could be himself in front of Kouki, that he didn't have to act like a perfect Akashi, he didn't need to put up faces and he didn't need to lie to others or himself. Kouki overwhelmed him with the depths of his affection, spoiling him rotten with his love.

He was drunk, drunk in love and in Kouki. He wanted to drown himself in this happiness, and he wished for it to never end.

When Seijuurou woke up, he felt his cheeks wet and tears flowed out in streams, soaking the pillow.

The dreams ended when morning came, each time he was pulled out of the paradise, into a reality without Kouki's presence by his side. A reality in which he was due to a heartless marriage to a woman he couldn't come to love. And that was why he couldn't stop the tears, when morning inevitably came.

If he had to know of this aching pain and such a deep loneliness, Seijuurou wished he never knew it in the first place. He wished he had never known of Kouki's love, his loving voice and his beautiful smile. He had never been this miserable, never been so deeply in love with someone who had gotten away and left him — never even truly been with Seijuurou. Someone who was in love with the other aspect of himself.

And so he cried into his hands, a grown man his age, heartbroken and wept pitifully. As if he was experiencing a broken first love, thirteen years younger than he was.

—

"Seijuurou-san, I'm returning this to you." His fiancé told him one afternoon, pushing the shapphire blue ring on the desk, towards him.

Seijuurou had been shocked, the words were caught in his throat when he gazed up at the blonde beauty in front of him, at loss of words. The silence between them stretched for a few more seconds, before he could find his voice again.

"Why?" Was all that he could say.

She had sighed, arms crossed over her chest. "Seijuurou-san, you don't love me. I cannot force you to marry me out of obligation."

Seijuurou gaped, eyes widened. "I — I don't understand."

Her blue eyes softened as he gazed at him, kindness was reflected behind those clear azure gems. "Seijuurou-san, you're in love with another person, aren't you?" She stated it as if it was a fact, not a question.

He felt a lump appear in his throat. "How do you…? I did not cheat on you, please don't misunderstand." He tried to explain, panic rose to his head.

She shook her pretty head. "I know you didn't cheat on me, Seijuurou-san, I don't think you're capable of doing such things." She said. "No, you did not cheat on me. Then your love must be unrequited, Seijuurou-san. That person does not return your feelings, do they?"

Once again, Seijuurou was caught unawares. He could only stare at her blankly.

She only smiled. "I know how it felt, Seijuurou-san, I've been there myself. You… you look just like me back then, that was how I knew. You're in love with another person, but your feelings aren't returned. That's why I can't do this anymore, please break up with me, Seijuurou-san."

"I — "

"You've been wonderful to me, Seijuurou-san. You have been the perfect, gentlemanly fiancé, more than I could wish for. But as you cannot fall in love with me, I also, cannot fall in love with you, Seijuurou-san. We cannot be married just to lick each other's wounds, or for you to help my father's business. I'm sure we will be fine, we're tougher than you think."

"Akari… it's not like that." Seijuurou started.

"No, Seijuurou-san, the one who can make you happy is not me, you do realise this, don't you?"

The question rendered him silent. Seijuurou could not find the voice to reply her.

"Well, I don't have the right to end things first, because your family is higher in status. And I know you won't be the first to end it. So I came here to ask you to break up with me, instead." She had a smile on her face as she asked once more. "Please break up with me, Seijuurou-san."

Seijuurou's mouth clamped shut. He couldn't deny his feelings, nor refuse his fiancé's desire to end things between them. He knew his heart had strayed, and it wasn't fair to bind her to him in matrimony, when his heart belonged to another. In the end, Seijuurou relented, granting her wishes.

"Thank you for everything, Seijuurou-san. I really wish you will find happiness." Akari had said to him, giving him a genuine smile.

Seijuurou had returned her smile. He felt neither ire nor hatred for her, and he didn't feel sad when they ended their engagement.

"I wish you'll find happiness too, Akari."

There would be blood and mess after they announced the end of their engagement, Seijuurou had to brace himself.

—

The reactions from his father and Akari's family had been as disastrous as he'd thought. The media had gone into a frenzy, gossip tabloids came up with wild, colourful speculations over what caused their breakup. Paparazzi camped outside of his office and apartment for days at a time, in hopes of getting an exclusive interview from Seijuurou, or to snap scandalous pictures to sell their papers.

Seijuurou was just tired of it all.

He used his influence to curb the sensation, after a while, crushing the tabloids that wrote salacious claims and slanders about him and his ex.

He drove away the paparazzi before they could catch a whiff of his former affairs — especially about Kouki. Seijuurou did whatever he could to destroy evidence or rumours about their relationship, devoting himself into tracking down potential witnesses and buying off their silence. He didn't want Kouki to suffer more than what Seijuurou had already caused him. The excitement died down fairly quickly in result, in just less than a month, everything nearly returned to normal.

His father had been especially vicious, he had called him into the main Akashi house to voice out his criticism and disappointment to Seijuurou, for his failed engagement, and demanded him to choose another potential bride to regain the Akashi family honour. For the first time, Seijuurou hadn't cared for the bitter old man's personal opinions. He only sat there on a chair, listened disinterestedly as his father lashed out at him, then left in silence.

He knew being ignored or treated as insignificant was something his perfectionist father couldn't stand, but he could've cared less. His father was screaming in rage as he left the room, he didn't intend to return to the blasted house for a long while. He still had to deal with his work, the scandal and his own personal problem. He didn't care for the petty things his senile father had to say.

Every night, he still dreamed of Kouki. And every night he would wake up, hollowed and grief-stricken.

He barely had blackouts anymore. His other self had stayed eerily quiet inside of him, but Seijuurou could still feel his presence in the back of his mind. He wished he could do something for the both of them, but he knew he could do nothing. They could not forget about Kouki, no matter how much they tried. The only consolation he got, was that he was able to protect Kouki from the worst part of the media. Nobody knew nor found out about them, and he made sure it stayed that way.

Life went on with or without Kouki, as empty as it was, Seijuurou still had responsibility over his employees, he couldn't drown in sorrow forever. He could only wish Kouki was happy somewhere, even if it wasn't with Seijuurou, and even if they may never meet again. It didn't matter. If it helped Kouki to forget his pain, Seijuurou would do anything for him, even if Seijuurou were to be forgotten.

But if he could wish for one thing, Seijuurou wanted to meet Kouki again. He wanted it more than anything else, to look upon his beloved's face and to hear his voice, to feel the warmth of his skin. Seijuurou knew he asked too much, not after he had hurt Kouki so badly.

Until one rainy day, after a long day of work, Seijuurou had sat in his car, caught in a traffic jam.

The day was cold and gloomy, as if the weather reflected what was inside of his heart, like a movie cliché. His car didn't seem to move, so Seijuurou turned his attention to look around the drenched streets, watching as pedestrians scattering about to avoid the rain. He felt his heart stopped beating in his ribcage when he saw a familiar figure, standing in front of a store by the sidewalk. His blood ran cold.

It was an automatic response, Seijuurou didn't think when he opened the passenger door abruptly, the rain pouring over him and soaking his expensive coat. He didn't care for the cold and he didn't care for the public's gaze. He didn't care of consequences or risks or scandals. The world had lost its colours, the noises quietened to a deathly silence and the earth slowed down its rotation, there was only Kouki in his eyes and nothing else mattered.

He saw those eyes looked at him and he felt himself soar, he opened his mouth as he leaped forward.

"KOUKI!"

The dark hollow within him rapidly disintegrated, replaced by a dizzying, blinding euphoria.

—

The End.

—

Aftermath Note:

Thank you very much for reading this story! Somehow it's gotten rather long, isn't it? (^^;) I originally wanted to write a one-shot, then it turned into a two long shots. Like what? The differences between chapter 1 (by Kouki's POV as an ordinary guy) and chapter 2 (by Akashi's POV as a mature man) are quite something, don't you think? But they have different personalities, so I went for different styles of writing, while Kouki was more comical and open about his feelings, Akashi was more subdued and reserved. It was interesting to write them in different perspectives, and about this story, with its complication rooted from Seijuurou's split personality.

Why did Seijuurou choose a girl like Akari as his fiancé? I think it's because secretly, Seijuuro thirsts for love. He never did receive much from his father, and the only one who gave him unconditional love was his mother, who died when he was young. When Seijuurou sees other people in love, he envies them. Thus, when he sees how much Akari, despite betrayed, still in love with her ex, he wishes he could have that too. Thus he'd chosen her over the other lovestruck ladies. This's also what makes him fall in love with Kouki, with his sincere and honest way of loving.

About Kouki. I think he's an ordinary dude; laid back, just cruising along with life. But deep down, he is honest and lonely. He wishes for someone to look at him for who he is, despite him not possessing prominent features. He also has low self-esteem, which makes him rather relatable. But due to this, he doesn't realise his other good points, which is a shame. He may be a little anxious and insecure, but Kouki is actually strong when things get tough and he's not afraid to stand up for himself. This is what ultimately makes him all the more attractive to both Akashi Seijuurous, who favour people with dignity.

This fic had received a lot of support and I am thankful. I have enjoyed writing this and may attempt to write another AkaFuri story in the future. I still have to finish up Beastly Call though. Well, one thing at a time, yes? :D