Chapter Text
The Akaashi estate was a vast plot of land, but its size wasn’t surprising to anyone, at least not until they learned that it belonged to the Akaashi family. The Akaashis boasted extravagant wealth; they may not say it through words, but their clothes and manner of speaking said it all. Their workers were deemed to be very lucky, not only were they able to work in such a stellar place, they were also able to live in it. And although, not in the mansion per se, the workers’ quarters still provided more comfort compared to those provided by other lords.
Because of Lady Akaashi’s fondness for flowers, a large wreath of various types and colors of flowers embraced the manor house. Of all the gardens the family owned, Keiji, the sole heir of the Akaashi estate and business, seemed to have taken quite a liking to the rose garden. He frequented the place often, especially on Sundays when he had no private pianoforte lessons. He found solidarity in being surrounded by the roses while he read whatever book he decided to sneak out from his father’s library that day.
However, Keiji found himself coming to the garden more often than he usually would, recently. Most of the time, he would only spend his afternoons there drinking tea and finishing a book while being shaded by the gazebo; but lately, he would take morning strolls around the garden and hold minutes-long conversations with the gardener.
It was summer; and Keiji absolutely disliked summer. He hated getting sweaty when he didn’t mean to; and he most especially hated waking up earlier than usual. The summer heat always bothered Keiji; found it insufferable. The wind blew an inexplicably hot breeze, and the ground released an annoyingly humid vapor. It was hot outside, and even more so inside. Keiji had no better choice than to stay outside most summer days, and at times, even nights.
Keiji was, as expected, awoken at an hour he was not used to. He roused with his blankets thrown away from his bed, and his clothes completely disheveled, most likely from the previous night’s attempts at feeling less hot. He sat up and brushed his hair away from his face, only to stop midway as his palm was completely covered in sweat. To put it simply, Keiji was soaked.
Both his clothes and hair were damp, and there was no way he liked it.
Eager to be refreshed and not sweaty and damp and sticky, Keiji made his way to the bathroom attached to his bedroom. He filled up his bathtub with water and poured on different oils and perfumes he found necessary to keep himself fragrant amidst the humid weather. And when he was done bathing, he made his way downstairs and went straight ahead to the rose garden. He took small steps, taking his time around the garden which he knew as well as he does his favorite novel.
Keiji was known by the workers to be quite reserved, introverted, if you will. He never spoke to them unless needed, only saying simple greetings or passing on simple requests given by his parents, which was why the young gardener in charge of the maintenance of the rose garden was quite surprised when the young master first spoke to him.
“Do you not get pricked by the roses?” Keiji asked. He was standing beside the young gardener who was busy tending to the roses.
Keiji had nothing better to do. He had gotten bored of the book he had recently received as a present from his best friend, Tobio, the youngest of the Kageyama line. The Kageyamas had recently gone out of the country, and, as per Tobio’s written words, since he was an agreeable and thoughtful friend to Keiji, Tobio bought for him a couple of books he saw displayed outside a bookstore.
“Are you speaking to me, young master?” Asked the young gardener, whose name Keiji would later learn to be ‘Koutarou’.
“Whom else? We are the only ones here,” answered Keiji. He was looking up at the gardener as he was much taller than Keiji was. The gardener had big, round eyes; expressive, deep. His eyes bore into Keiji’s, whose eyes were smaller and sharper.
“My apologies,” replied Koutarou with a smile. He stopped watering the rose bush they were standing in front of and faced Keiji. “I have been pricked one-too-many times, young master. I fear it would take us all day to recount my thorny mishaps.”
“Why do you still choose to work with roses then, when you can request to be reassigned to work with peonies instead? They are far more beautiful and more fragrant than the roses here,” suggested Keiji, despite the blood-colored flowers being his favorite.
Koutarou smiled and answered, “I like roses, young master. I find them very beautiful.”
“Are they your favorite?” Koutarou nodded. “Forgive me, then, for my heedless comment earlier. I hope I have not offended you.”
“You need not worry, I did not take any offense in your statement. You were simply stating your opinion,” said Koutarou.
“Young master,” said a male servant.
Keiji faced the man and motioned for him to continue.
“Your breakfast is ready.”
Keiji smiled and thanked the servant, then went back to the manor house after bidding Koutarou farewell. A good four feet behind, the male servant followed Keiji back to the manor.
“Are mother and father not joining me for breakfast?” Asked Keiji when he sat on his designated seat, northwest to where his father usually sat, the head of the table, suited for the head of one of the most powerful families in the country.
The butler standing by the dining hall entrance said, “Lord Akaashi and Lady Akaashi each had individual businesses to attend to in the early morning. Lady Akaashi informed she will be back by noon, while Lord Akaashi will not be back until supper.”
Keiji smiled and thanked the male servant for the second time that day.
He quietly ate his meal. He munched on the dainty breakfast prepared for him by the loyal servants. Keiji wanted to learn how to cook. He often had cravings for random dishes or snacks, most frequently in the dead of night when no one was awake. None of these cravings were ever satisfied because he did not want to wake and bother the servants simply to serve him whatever food he craved that night, nor did Keiji know how to cook any of these foods. He also feared his father would catch him cooking, a “woman’s job,” as his father so shamelessly described.
Keiji wanted to ask the servant closest to him how she learned how to cook, but Keiji did not know what to ask and where to start, so he just continued eating his meal in silence.
“Young master, please pay attention to what I am saying,” said Mr. Takeda, Keiji’s tutor.
Keiji was, like any other day, uninterested in what his instructor was blabbering about. He had already mastered the art of playing the pianoforte, there was no use in continuing with the lessons. He deemed it both a waste of his time and his parents’ money.
“But sir, do you not think we are only wasting our time? I’m already able to read musical notes and execute the piece perfectly. What more is there to learn?” Asked Keiji, who was busying himself with the worn-out leather on his seat.
“Delivering emotion, young master. It is not enough to be able to know, you must also feel,” replied Mr. Takeda, emphasizing the last word with much vigor as his hand went to his clothed chest and crumpled his pristine white shirt.
Keiji wanted to walk out the door and lock himself in his room. He was not in the mood to faux emotions and pretend like he was able to understand the pieces, because he could not. He tried, and he could not. He did not know how Mr. Takeda was able to differentiate passion from anger, and solemnity from loneliness. It all sounded the same to him, it was just a collection of notes bundled up together to make people believe that it sounded good. He cannot fathom his naive thoughts when he was a younger boy pleading to his father to let him study the instrument.
“Let us try this one, shall we?” Mr. Takeda placed the piece’s musical sheets in front of Keiji. “Try it.” He smiled, urging Keiji to play.
Keiji pressed the keys on the pianoforte, but it made his tutor cringe.
“Softly, young master. Press the keys softly, and you shall be able to find the right emotion partnered with this piece,” said he.
Keiji tried once again, and again, and again, and again, and in each try, it elicited the same reaction from his tutor.
“I told you that this is a waste of time. Let us stop. I am also getting tired,” said Keiji, getting ready to leave the room.
“Very well, young master. It seems there is no stopping you from leaving this room,” said Mr. Takeda. “My suggestion though, young master: find your muse, and you shall find the softness that you need.”
Keiji took his time walking back to his room. It was not like he had something to do if he was to arrive earlier. He was only trying to kill time. He thought of the party at the Sakusas and wondered what piece he should play. If Keiji was to be perfectly honest, the only thing he was looking forward to in the party was his friends. He was sure that Tobio’s family were invited, as well as Tetsurou’s, since their parents were closely acquainted with the Sakusas’ as well.
Keiji stepped inside his room and lied in bed. He released a long sigh as he stared at the dark wood that made up his room’s ceiling. The breathy, raspy voice of Mr. Takeda sounded in his ears.
“...find your muse...”
Keiji scoffed. “Muse,” he muttered, then rolled over to lie on his stomach. “As if that would help me play the pianoforte better.”
Keiji closed his eyes and hoped for sleep to befall on him.
🌹
“Keiji, are you listening to me?” Asked his father, whose eyeglasses were perched just by the tip of his nose.
“I apologize, father, but I didn’t hear what you said,” said Keiji.
“I asked you whether your pianoforte lessons are going well. I best believe that it is,” said Keiji's father, his voice showing authority.
“Yes, father. I’ve mastered five pieces already,” said Keiji, leaving out the part where his tutor told him he needed better delivery.
“Shall I expect you to play at the dinner party at Lord Sakusa’s manor a fortnight from today?”
“If that is what you wish, then yes, you shall,” answered Keiji, voice low.
Lord Akaashi raised an eyebrow at Keiji’s response. He said, “Should a lady, or ladies, for that matter, occupy the seat for long periods of time, you are not to play. Do you understand?” Keiji nodded. “It is already enough that I have allowed you to learn such a feminine sport, you do not need to further emasculate yourself by forcing yourself to a place on the seat.”
Keiji made no move to respond, so his father continued, “You will only play if I allow you.”
“Yes, father.”
“You will make no mistakes, Keiji. Do not debase my name by failing to perfect an activity for women. Do you understand?” Keiji nodded. “Are you mute? Or have you forgotten to use your words?”
Keiji cleared his throat. “I apologize, father; and I understand. I shall do my best to not disappoint you.”
His father continued writing his letter without so much a response, while Keiji went back to reading another novel he had recently picked up. He had ditched Tobio’s present, barely reading a chapter of it. He supposed he would just have to read it when he had already finished reading all of the books in his father’s library.
They were in Lord Akaashi’s study; Keiji had no plan to stay in the room. He was only supposed to, yet again, ‘borrow’ one of his father’s books to read in the gazebo. Keiji was especially eager to spend his time outside as the day wasn’t as hot as the days before, but his father was in the study when Keiji entered. He was going to excuse himself, but Lord Akaashi insisted on him doing whatever he planned on doing in the library.
A few minutes later, a knock came on the study’s wooden door. Lord Akaashi called the person in, and through the doorway walked a male servant.
“Lady Akaashi wishes for the young master to join her for afternoon tea,” said the servant.
Keiji’s father only so much as cocked his head towards the study’s door to tell Keiji to join his mother. Keiji almost jumped in joy; he was able to escape from his father (cruel as it may sound), and enjoy the nice summer afternoon.
Keiji excused himself after returning the book to its rightful place on the shelves. His steps, which were quicker and wider than his usual strides, showed his keenness to leave the library in which Keiji felt like a chicken being roasted above open fire.
His morning that day started the same way he started the last: waking up in a crown and armor of sweat. He pretty much recounted yesterday morning’s steps, but he did not find Koutarou when he took an early stroll in the garden. The young gardener might have finished his task earlier than usual, Keiji supposed.
He sat across his mother in the gazebo in the peony garden. The summer breeze greeted Keiji as soon as he sat down. Thankfully, the wind wasn’t as humid as he had expected, but droplets of his sweat still gathered at the crown of his head and on the tip of his nose. Keiji was fine with this, as long as he wasn’t dripping wet with sweat; he could still pay attention to his mother’s stories about her visit to the Tanaka estate.
The Tanaka estate’s size was the third largest in the country, succeeding the Sakusa estate and Akaashi estate. Had Keiji known that his mother would visit the Tanakas, he would’ve come with as he hadn’t seen his friend in a long time, not since he had been wed.
“My dear, it was so nice. Ryuunosuke had done a stellar job with his late father’s estate. And Kiyoko—! Oh my! Absolutely handsome, and very agreeable!” Lady Akaashi talked about Ryuunosuke and his wife, Kiyoko as if they were her own children. “She spoke with such wit and interest. Do you think she has a younger sister for you to marry?”
Ah, marriage. Of course.
Keiji should have seen this coming. Speaking with his mother wasn’t simply talking, it was discussing. And what else was Lady Akaashi to discuss with Keiji but marriage?
“Mother, if Kiyoko did have a younger sister, I find it hard to believe that she will be anything like her older sister,” answered Keiji with much speculation. “Kiyoko set too high a standard for just anyone to be easily similar to her.”
“If I find an agreeable and handsome lady similar to Kiyoko, will you marry her?” Lady Akaashi asked, her eyes twinkling with anticipation.
“I highly doubt that you will, but yes,” replied Keiji, causing his mother to clap in glee. “That is, if you find one,” added Keiji.
Lady Akaashi only smiled in response, a smile so sweet yet so ominous.
🌹
“You are a fool,” said Keiji after Tobio had recounted his adventures outside the country to Keiji. “You are the biggest fool that has ever graced this land.”
“I have heard you the first time. Now, will you shut it?” Answered Tobio, not exactly ecstatic about hearing his closest friend calling him a fool twice.
They were lounging by the pond in the Akaashi estate and skipping rocks. It had at least been a week after the Kageyamas had gone back from their vacation, and Tobio was eager to share his adventures (or misadventures, as Keiji had put it) to his best friend. Having arrived in the early morning, Tobio did not waste any time resting. As soon as he set foot in the estate and gave his regards to Keiji’s parents, he went straight to Keiji’s room and woke the poor bloke up.
“No, I will not shut it,” retorted Keiji. “How long has it been since you found a lady agreeable? In all your nineteen years of living, you have only ever turned your head towards two ladies. Two!”
“You have never liked anyone! You do not have the right to speak,” answered Tobio, sulky.
“I’m not interested in marriage,” said Keiji, facing Tobio, “you, on the other hand, have only ever worried about marriage since you were in Lady Kageyama’s womb.”
Tobio plucked the grass on the ground and threw it at Keiji, who was laughing his heart out. It was always fun teasing Tobio, especially when his older brother, Tooru was with them. Tooru was the most mischievous in their friend group, and easily the loudest. He was also one of the most beautiful, Keiji believed, almost otherworldly. It was never hard to lose him in a sea of nobles and commoners alike; his beauty and impeccably loud mouth was always easy to find.
“Worry not, you have plenty to choose from at the party in Kiyoomi’s manor,” teased Keiji.
“You are insufferable,” retorted Tobio, shoving Keiji’s shoulder. “Almost as insufferable as Tooru.”
“Tooru is definitely going to hear about this.” Keiji smiled slyly, erupting in giggles after.
Tobio’s eyes widened in horror; said, “No—! Do you want me to die?”
“I can’t really say I have not considered it,” vexed Keiji further.
Tobio let out the loudest gasp, his body moving away from Keiji and his hand covering his widely-opened mouth.
“Treachery!” Cried Tobio, pointing an accusing finger at his friend. “I should not have come here. Had I known you would only vex me, I would not have gone.” Tobio sulked and Keiji could not help but chuckle at his friend’s childlike attitude.
“I was only joking.” Keiji patted Tobio’s back, still amused. “Let’s just talk about that lady you danced and conversed with but did not bother to know the name of.”
“Keiji!”
Keiji erupted in endless fits of laughter.
“I see you still haven’t improved your horseback-riding skills even after riding so much when you went out of the country,” said Keiji, trying to be heard amidst the loud thumping of the horseshoes on the dry ground. “Maybe this is why that lady never gave you her name!” Keiji laughed heartily.
“Are you still not tired of that, Keiji?” Replied Tobio. “It is rather getting repetitive and boring!”
Keiji laughed, then in a rush, he said, “Last to the stable eats three portions of my mother’s favorite ice cream!” He kicked his horse’s side and ignored Tobio’s protests as Keiji’s horse sprinted like mad.
Dinner came a little earlier than usual, probably due to Tobio’s visit. A whole chicken from the Akaashis’ coop was roasted especially for Tobio, the Akaashi family’s head maid knowing full well the family’s and all their esteemed guests’ favorites.
“How was your vacation, Tobio?” Asked Keiji’s father, his voice was a tad gentler than usual, but still the same stoic, monotone voice.
“Oh,” said Tobio, surprised by Lord Akaashi’s sudden curiosity in his endeavors. He placed the fork he was holding on the gold-speckled white plate in front of him. “It was very interesting. The people were absolutely friendly and hospitable. They treated visitors as if they were their own people.”
Lord Akaashi only so much as nodded. But Tobio, afraid that he must entertain the man, continued sharing his experience in the neighboring country.
“I would not say the same about the noble people, however. They were very cold and ill-mannered,” said Tobio with much thought.
The statement piqued Lord Akaashi’s interest, who raised his eyebrows.
“How so?”
“My family came to the country for leisure, but my father’s agenda was different. Suffice to say, they were very closed to the idea of doing business with my father, despite our families’ history exceeding six generations.” Tobio shrugged.
Lady Akaashi’s favorite ice cream was served after they had finished their meals. Tobio had the urge to groan when he remembered his bet with Keiji, although the latter had cheated by getting a head start. Tobio would have to endure eating three portions of cucumber ice cream.
Had Tooru been there, he would have given his own serving to Tobio, excusing that he was already full. The man detested cucumbers, he couldn’t even stand the sight of the thick, green fruit, let alone eat it. Putting anything cucumber-related into his mouth would mean torture for him. And for the others, too, as he would never stop complaining about it.
Tobio ate his ice cream in jest as Keiji, who was seated beside him, was thoroughly enjoying his friend’s demise.
The pair headed to Keiji’s practice room when Tobio had finished, albeit ruefully, his third cup. Their voices echoed through the manor’s empty hallway as they chatted their way to the room with Tobio mostly doing the talking, and Keiji listening.
“Do you think Kiyoomi has found a lady to wife?” Asked Tobio, sitting comfortably on the chaise lounge in the corner of the room nearest to the pianoforte.
Keiji laid out the musical sheets in front of him and started playing.
“I doubt that he has.”
“Why so? He has a very handsome face, an unformidable fortune, and he has a good head for everything. If anyone is more than capable of finding a lady to marry in a very short time, it is him.” Tobio mused, his bottom lip jutting out.
“Had I not been your friend, I would have instantly assumed you were attracted to Kiyoomi,” chaffed Keiji.
Tobio glared at the back of Keiji’s head. Useless, but still.
“Maybe if you put more effort in your playing the pianoforte like you do in mocking me, you would be able to play well,” bit back Tobio.
Keiji cackled in response, his fingers leaving the keys. He turned his torso to face Tobio.
“Well, you need to do better at your insults as you do on your lady skills. It’s quite rusty, although I daresay it was never there to begin with.”
“Will you ever let that go?”
Keiji simply shook his head and chuckled before going back to practicing.
“Do you think Tetsurou will be there? I haven’t seen him since his marriage to Alisa.” Keiji pressed his fingertips on the keys once again, but this time gentler and calmer.
“Obviously. Tetsurou never misses an opportunity to go to parties. He never stops dancing,” stated Tobio as he scratched on the detailed embroidery on the sofa mindlessly.
“Indeed. Alisa seems to love dancing, too. They danced together the entirety of their wedding. One would believe they were glued to each other.”
Keiji finished the song without any more interjections. Silence befell them with only the pianoforte easing the suffocating summer atmosphere.
“I shall retire to bed for I have to leave as soon as the sun rises tomorrow. Will you be staying here?” Tobio rose from his seat and walked closer to where Keiji was. He slipped his hands in his pockets as he awaited the other’s reply.
“No.” Keiji shook his head. “I think I will be amusing myself by taking a walk in the garden for a while. It gets rather stifling in my room at night.”
Tobio nodded. “Well, sleep as early as you can. The least you can do for insulting me the whole day is see me off tomorrow,” said Tobio in a light banter.
Keiji chuckled. “I will.”
The two separated ways outside the door wishing each other a good night.
Keiji’s feet brought him to the rose garden, the flowers’ fragrance even stronger as the summer breeze blew through the night. He walked slowly with only the moonlight guiding his path. He sat on the fountain’s edge and rested his weight on his hands as he leaned back.
The faint scent of the roses filled his nose as he slowly breathed in. He was reminded of the gardener before Koutarou. The old man always played with Keiji when he was younger. Whenever he would be scolded by his father, little Keiji would always run to the rose garden looking for the old gardener. A game of hide and seek would always cheer him up. There wasn’t really much to hide behind in the garden, but the old man pretended enough to make little Keiji think he was good at the game. Even when the top of his dark hair was always sticking out.
Keiji smiled at the thought. He missed the old gardener. When Keiji turned into an adolescent, the man became more of a father figure to him than his biological father. He listened intently to Keiji’s random musings and gave heartfelt advice. The devastation Keiji felt when the old man died three summers ago was immeasurable. But even then, he still went to the rose garden every day and night. His relationship with the old gardener seemed to have bled onto the garden, reminding him vividly of old times.
Keiji flinched when he heard someone singing. He had never heard the song, but the voice was familiar. He slowly stood up, quiet in his steps as he tried to find the source of the sound. He had to squint his eyes since the moon was hiding behind the trees, providing little guide to his sudden search. He circled the fountain, halfway from his previous seat. He stopped and stared at the man lying on the fountain edge, opposite from where he was standing. The moon rose above the thicket ever so surely. It shone brightly, its silver light gleaming against the fountain waters and revealing the face of the other person in the rose garden.
“Sir?” Said Keiji carefully.
The man sat up with a startled expression, eyes wide with shock. He almost fell from the edge and would have gone straight into the water had he not held on the other side of the fountain edge.
Keiji took small, calculated steps towards the young gardener who only gawked in response.
“May I sit?” Asked Keiji as he pointed to the empty space beside Koutarou.
Koutarou blinked, still visibly startled. Then, after what felt like an hour, he nodded.
“Yes. Yes, of course, young master.”
Keiji smiled. A small smile, but enough to assure the other that everything was fine.
For a while, only the rushing sound of water crashing against each other could be heard. No one was speaking. Until Keiji did.
“Do you frequent here during the night?”
Koutarou turned his attention from his adjoined hands to Keiji, whose facial features were shadowed as the moon hung brightly behind him, creating a halo around his head.
“Yes, young master. But mostly during the summer.”
“‘Keiji’. Please call me ‘Keiji’. I would much prefer it.” Keiji smiled again. Another small smile, but this time, enough for the two indents on his cheeks to show.
“Ah, yes, if you insist, yo—Keiji.”
Keiji smiled and looked at Koutarou with expectant eyes. “Your name?”
Koutarou jumped slightly in his seat; replied, “Koutarou.”
“Koutarou,” Keiji repeated silently to himself, as if training his tongue to become familiar with the syllables of Koutarou’s name.
After a short period of silence, Keiji spoke once again. “It’s nicer, is it not?” He turned his head towards the night sky.
The sky enveloped them with its inky vastness, stretching over unseen edges. The stars glimmered in contrast to its dark canvas and provided direction to wayfarers and comfort to the disturbed. The little balls of gases peeked through the branches of the trees surrounding them, blinking lovingly.
“What is?”
“Summer nights,” he answered simply.
Koutarou nodded and faced the same sky. “The moon and the stars are not hiding behind clouds. Everything is much clearer.”
Keiji agreed with that. And to the other statements Koutarou shared that night. He did not expect the young gardener to be so… fascinating. He had ideas Keiji had never heard of, like the existence of other life forms outside the planet they were living in.
“Do you not think it is quite impossible for us to be the sole inhabitants of the universe? There are other planets besides ours, other worlds,” Koutarou had said, his eyes wide with wonder. He looked so eager to talk about it, like he had been waiting for someone who would listen to his crazy ideas and had finally found them.
The stars reflected onto his round eyes whenever he looked at Keiji. He supposed it was only fitting as Koutarou had shown so much interest in celestial bodies, especially in the bright balls of gases that twinkled each night for him to appreciate. Koutarou liked beautiful things, Keiji realized. From roses to stars, he liked them all.
Later, when he retired to bed, Keiji lied thinking about what else Koutarou liked.
🌹
Keiji was sure he was going to miss Tobio’s departure if he wasn’t woken up by the sulky and irked man-baby he called a friend.
“Akaashi Keiji! Wake up,” cried Tobio, poking relentlessly at Keiji’s side.
Keiji, ticklish, jolted awake with a disgruntled groan. Tobio grinned triumphantly at having succeeded at waking the other up. Although, knowing Keiji, it was never a task to wake him up. The littlest rustle of trees could ruin his slumber. But Tobio wanted to get the least bit of revenge before he went back to his family’s estate.
“I am about to leave. The sun is about to rise,” said Tobio, trying to act innocent as if he did not just chuck his best mate at the waist.
Keiji rolled on his side. With his face squished on his pillow, he stared at Tobio peevishly then rolled on his other side, his back turned.
“I’ve seen you. Now, the horses can run and you can leave,” mumbled Keiji groggily, voice raspy from sleep.
Tobio’s jaw hung in disbelief. There was simply no defeating Keiji with his confident ways of insulting Tobio. He had been mastering the art since they were at the mere age of five.
“Get up. That is not what I meant when I told you to see me off.”
He walked up to the window closest to Keiji’s bed and drew the curtains open, letting sunlight stream across the entire room, and, as planned, Keiji’s face. The golden sphere beamed at his features happily, pulling him from his already disturbed slumber.
With a groan, Keiji sat up. “Alright,” he said, defeated. “I will go, but let me change first.”
Tobio shrugged, unable to fight the grin off his face. He would have to leave at a later time than scheduled, but he wasn’t really complaining.
Keiji did not leave his spot in front of the manor until the horizon swallowed Tobio’s carriage. He took his time walking, clutching another book he had sneaked out from his father’s library on the way down from his room. He hadn’t finished the book he almost got caught stealing last time, but he decided against taking it as its whereabouts would immediately point to him had his father found out it was missing. He was not about to sacrifice his head easily like that.
The smell of freshly watered roses welcomed Keiji as soon as he stepped onto the garden. The crimson petals glistened, the sunlight hitting the dew drops softly. Koutarou was standing before a rose bush ready to be bathed, humming the same tune he was singing the previous night in the same garden.
Keiji slowly walked up to Koutarou then stood right behind him, a reasonable distance between them. He crossed his hands behind him and took a peek beside Koutarou, who was still oblivious to Keiji’s presence.
“Good morning,” greeted Keiji chirpily.
Koutarou jumped in surprise, letting a scream escape from his mouth. Keiji, on the other hand, doubled over in laughter. Koutarou’s face turned a color similar to the flowers he nursed as he found Keiji almost on the ground, no sign of stopping from his cackling fit.
Feeling brave, Koutarou tipped the hand sprinkler over, sending a quick shower of water onto Keiji’s head.
That got Keiji to stop laughing. He stood up, eyes wide, and one hand sprawled on his damp hair.
“I will tell my father about this.” He kept his voice low and monotone to sell his act. Keiji was never to be challenged for he would never back down from a prank. Because if there was anyone who breathed mischief, it was him.
And Tooru, of course.
Well, maybe his entire friend group did.
Fear settled in Koutarou’s features soon after. He sputtered numerous apologies as he scrambled to get a piece of cloth from his pocket and used it to dry Keiji’s hair.
Keiji grabbed Koutarou’s wrist and moved it away from his head. He grinned and giggled.
“I’m just playing with you.” He winked.
Keiji was not a usually playful fellow, but when around his friends, it was easy for him to lower his walls and simply let go and enjoy. He supposed Koutarou, despite only having met him quite recently, had affected him in such a way that made it easy for Keiji to trust him with himself.
He gently let go of Koutarou’s hand then sat on the edge of the fountain. Koutarou shook his head and picked up the hand sprinkler.
“You are a kid,” said he, a fond smile shaping his lips.
“That cannot be much farther from the truth. I will be turning twenty-one in December,” replied Keiji, despite knowing exactly what Koutarou meant. Keiji opened the book in his hands and started reading. Then, after a few seconds, he glanced up.
“How old are you, Koutarou? Older than I, I presume?”
“Correct. I am a year older than you, if what I have heard from the other servants holds any truth to them. I celebrate my birthdays in September,” replied Koutarou.
Keiji only nodded before returning his attention back to the literary text in his hands. It was a classic. A Shakespearean portrayal of betrayal and vengeance. The Tragic History of Hamlet, Prince of Denmark, it read on the cover. Keiji remembered reading the piece years ago, when he was still an innocent child. He had not understood much about the emotions that Prince Hamlet had to inspire revenge upon his uncle. He never really understood much about the story then, which is why he decided to read it once again now that he was more aware and mature.
His mind suddenly drifted back to last night’s conversation with the gardener. He wondered where Koutarou had gotten his ideas from, or what he knew to deduce such things. Keiji peeked at Koutarou from behind his open book. He watched the other young man move and scrutinized his expressions. There seemed to be nothing out of the ordinary with him. He moved like the other servants, although less rigid and stoic. Expected from a man his age.
Letting his curiosity get the best of him, Keiji asked, “Do you read?”
Koutarou finished watering the roses first then walked up to Keiji. He sat beside him and placed the hand sprinkler beside his left foot.
“Yes. I have read that piece quite a few times, in fact.” He pointed to the worn out, dark blue hardback book lined with faded gold.
“Why?” He asked when Keiji made no response.
“You seemed to be well-read,” he answered simply.
Koutarou did not really know why and how he seemed to be well-read to the young master, but he supposed he could accept the compliment without guilt. Was it a compliment?
“How do you think other life forms outside of our world look?”
Keiji had closed the book long ago when Koutarou had walked towards him. It laid forgotten by his side. He had rested his thigh on top of the other and faced Koutarou at an angle, his full attention towards the tall man.
Koutarou cocked his head to the side at Keiji’s question, curious eyebrows meeting in the middle to furrow.
“Do you think they have abnormally large eyes like you?” Keiji teasingly asked.
“No.” Koutarou blinked before a mischievous smile spread across his face. “I think they have abnormally large ears like you.”
Keiji giggled despite being the target of the joke. It was refreshing to have someone who would bite back playfully. His friends always had different reactions; Tobio would always turn huffy; Tetsurou would relentlessly tease him back; Ryuunosuke would turn violent with his words; Atsumu was the same; Kiyoomi would only pinch his cheeks, which was annoying so he avoided teasing Kiyoomi most of the time; Akinori would become silent, fuming; Kenma would spit back a short insult; and Tooru would try to guilt him into apologizing, though it never once worked.
“No one has ever told me that my ears are rather unpleasant,” pointed out Keiji, a smile still ghosting his lips.
“It is not. It’s just big, like my eyes.” Koutarou giggled as his eyes twinkled with delight.
Koutarou wanted to say more, but a servant spoke before he could.
“Young master, you are being called for breakfast.”
Keiji nodded. “You may go. I will be coming in shortly.”
He faced Koutarou and stood up, not forgetting to grab the book. “Will you be here in the evening once more?”
“Craving my company, are we now, Keiji?” Teased Koutarou.
Keiji chuckled. “I was simply contemplating whether I shall grace you with my presence again.”
Koutarou stood up and laughed. Keiji started walking away.
“I shall see you later when the stars have scattered across the skies.”
Stars did not scatter across the skies. Clouds shrouded them as they cast a million pellets of rainwater onto the dry and parched earth.
Nevertheless, Keiji still sought out the rose garden.
He found Koutarou seeking shelter under the gazebo. He was drenched as well, proof that he hadn’t been long and had been caught in the wrathful hands of the skies.
“You will not be seeing me when the stars have scattered across the skies, after all,” said Koutarou.
“But I’m here.” Keiji ran a hand through his soaked tresses to keep them from sticking onto his forehead.
“You are.” Koutarou snorted. “But you do not exactly see me, do you? The clouds have covered all possible sources of light.”
Koutarou was right, Keiji couldn’t see him. The young master could only make out the gardener’s silhouette with the sparse light they were offered. Lightning would strike at times and would give him a glimpse of Koutarou’s face. A sight to behold, if you asked Keiji.
“I did not expect it to rain. Nor to be this cruel,” commented Keiji.
His forehead creased as he applied more effort into seeing in the dark. He marched forward carefully, using his hands as eyes as he tried to find the nearest chair. He sat down slowly once he had found it.
Koutarou still stood with his back turned and his hands in his pockets when the lightning struck once more.
“Will you not sit?” Queried Keiji.
“No.” The edges of Koutarou’s lips upturned into a smile. “I rather enjoy the feeling of mist hitting my skin.”
“Join me,” said Koutarou after seconds of silence.
“I am already wet enough, thank you,” replied Keiji, a lightness in his tone.
“Come on now. It’s refreshing.”
Another flash of light enabled Keiji to see Koutarou, who was now facing him.
“Stand up and stop being miserably wet,” teased Koutarou.
Keiji couldn’t fight back the laughter that escaped his lips. Never in his whole life would he have expected to hear the words ‘miserably’ and ‘wet’ succeeding each other in a sentence.
“Alright,” conceded Keiji. He rose from his seat and stood beside Koutarou; at least, if his memory served him right, it was beside him. There weren’t any bouts of lightning for him to check.
He turned his head sideways to where he believed Koutarou was.
“I shall now start being joyfully wet.”
Koutarou bursted out laughing, clutching his stomach as he folded over. Keiji saw, his eyes were now adjusted to the lack of light. He soon joined the young gardener, their laughter drowned out by the sound of raindrops relentlessly hitting metal and soil.