Chapter 90: A Hollow Reflection
Ren had finished his internal battle, the struggle within himself finally concluding. He thought he could find peace, or at least some semblance of understanding, but now there was an unsettling quiet in his heart. The world felt foreign—like a place he no longer recognized. His steps were slow as he made his way across the green field, the crisp air barely registering in his mind. His eyes wandered the scene absentmindedly until he spotted Akeshi in the distance, sitting on a bench next to a girl.
The girl, no older than ten, had long, raven-black hair that glistened under the sun. Her skin was porcelain-like, radiating a soft glow that spoke of careful upkeep. She looked up at Akeshi with wide, curious eyes, and it wasn't her beauty or innocence that struck Ren—but Akeshi himself.
Akeshi was smiling. And not just a casual smile or the grin he often wore for others, but something softer. His eyes were gentle, as if he were basking in warmth that Ren had never seen before. This wasn't the Akeshi Ren knew. It was like seeing an entirely different side of him, one Ren wasn't prepared to confront. One he wasn't prepared to interrupt. Disturb.
Ren's footsteps quickened, moving closer without even realizing it. As he approached, he could hear their conversation.
"Ake-nii-san, will you come more often?" the girl asked, her voice full of hope and curiosity.
Akeshi chuckled softly. "You know how busy I am, Rina. But I'll try. I promise."
"Really? You always say that, but you never come!" Rina puffed her cheeks, clearly upset.
Akeshi leaned back on the bench, arms stretched out along the top of it, his expression playful. "I have a café to run, you know. It's not easy being a 'single mom.'"
Rina giggled, her pout fading into a smile. "You're not a mom, Ake-nii! You can be a wonderful papa though!"
"Well, I do all the work, so I think it counts and it's metaphorically , i am not yet ready to be one." Akeshi replied with a wink and a chuckle.
"But I miss you. Can't you make some time for me!" Rina said, her tone becoming more serious.
Akeshi's smile faded slightly, his gaze turning thoughtful. "I miss you too."
Rina shifted closer, leaning her head against Akeshi's arm. "Then why don't you come back?"
Akeshi looked down at her, his eyes soft again, full of something Ren couldn't quite place. "Sometimes, things aren't that simple, Rina."
"But you're happy when you're here. I can tell."
Akeshi exhaled slowly, his gaze drifting into the horizon. "Sometimes, happiness alone is not enough to fill the void."
Ren stood there, watching the two of them to finish their conversation for a moment longer before he finally approached. He wasn't sure what drew him in—whether it was the unfamiliar warmth radiating from Akeshi or the gnawing feeling that something was wrong.
Akeshi noticed him first, his smile changing even though it was just for a moment. "Ren," he greeted, his voice shifting back to that casual, familiar tone. "What's up?"
Rina looked up, her wide eyes now fixed on Ren. "Who's this, Ake-nii?"
"Just someone I know from school," Akeshi replied, though there was a subtle edge in his voice that Ren didn't miss.
Rina blinked, her curiosity piqued. "You never talk about school."
Akeshi smiled at her, ruffling her hair. "That's because it's boring."
Ren, feeling out of place and somewhat intruding, stood stiffly. "I didn't mean to interrupt."
Akeshi waved him off. "You're not interrupting. We were just talking about casual stuff, right, Rina?"
The girl nodded, swinging her legs off the edge of the bench. "Yeah! Ake-nii used to visit all the time. But now he's too busy." She pouted again, glancing at Ren. "Is he always this busy at school too?"
Ren shrugged, not sure how to answer. "I guess."
Akeshi stood up, stretching his arms above his head before turning to Rina. "How about we take a walk? You wanna come, Ren?"
Ren hesitated, then nodded, following the two as they started walking across the green field. The sunlight was warm, but Ren couldn't shake the cold feeling creeping through him. He tried to listen to their conversation, but his mind was wandering. Akeshi was different today—so different it was unnerving.
Akeshi's voice cut through his thoughts. "So, Rina, what've you been up to while I was gone?"
Rina grinned. "Oh! I started drawing again! And—"
Akeshi's eyebrows raised in interest. "Really? What have you been drawing?"
"Mostly animals. I drew a really cool dragon last week. You should see it!"
"Sounds like you're getting better. Maybe you'll be the next Picasso, huh?"
Rina giggled, clearly pleased with the compliment. "Do you think so?"
"Of course. But you'll have to work hard. Even harder than me."
Ren glanced at Akeshi, catching the subtle shift in his expression when he said those words—work harder than me. There was a flicker of something in Akeshi's eyes, something Ren didn't understand.
They walked in silence for a while longer, the soft chatter between Akeshi and Rina fading into the background. Ren kept his distance, unsure if he should speak up or not. But then Akeshi suddenly turned to him.
"How's it going inside you, Ren?"
Ren blinked, not expecting the question. "What do you mean?"
"You know," Akeshi's voice dropped a little, "the three of you."
Ren stiffened. "The… three of us?"
Akeshi nodded, his gaze steady. "Yeah. You, and the other two inside you."
Ren's heart skipped a beat. Akeshi knew. He always knew. But how much did he know? How much did he understand?
"I don't know what you're talking about," Ren muttered, his eyes darting away.
Akeshi smiled, but it wasn't his usual smile. It was knowing, almost pitying. "Don't lie, Ren. I can see it in your eyes. Or maybe…" He paused, glancing at Ren with a sharp edge. "Maybe it's more like I can see the lack of something. Like an empty husk standing in front of me."
That was when Ren snapped.
"Empty husk?!" he shouted, his voice louder than he intended. "You think I'm just… empty?!"
Akeshi remained calm, crossing his arms. "I think you're lost."
"I'm not lost!" Ren growled, stepping closer to him. "You don't know anything about me."
Akeshi's expression didn't change. "I know enough."
Ren's fists clenched. "You don't know anything about what I've been through. About what we've been through!"
Akeshi sighed, shaking his head. "Ren, I've seen this before. You're splitting yourself apart. You're not whole."
"Shut up!" Ren's voice cracked, his anger boiling over. "Just shut up!"
Without warning, Ren lunged at Akeshi, swinging his fist. But Akeshi was faster, dodging the punch effortlessly before sweeping Ren's legs out from under him, sending him crashing to the ground.
"Is that it?" Akeshi asked, his voice cold now. "That's all you've got?"
Ren scrambled to his feet, rage and confusion clouding his mind. He charged again, only for Akeshi to sidestep him and deliver a swift blow to his side, knocking the wind out of him.
"You're weak, Ren," Akeshi said, standing over him. "You're so obsessed with these pieces of yourself that you've forgotten what it means to be whole."
Ren gasped for breath, struggling to stand. "Shut up…"
"You want to fight me?" Akeshi continued, his voice hard. "Then fight me as yourself. Not as these fragments you keep clinging to."
Ren finally managed to stand, his entire body shaking. "I don't know who I am anymore," he admitted, his voice barely a whisper.
Akeshi's eyes softened, but only for a moment. "Then find out. But stop hiding behind this empty shell of a person. Stop running away from yourself."
Ren collapsed to his knees, his fists pounding the ground in frustration. "I don't know how."
Akeshi knelt down beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Then let go of the past. Let go of the idea that you need to be more than who you are. Just be you."
The words hung in the air, and for the first time in a long while, Ren didn't know what to say. He felt hollow, but maybe Akeshi was right. Maybe he had been running—running from the truth, running from himself.
He looked up at Akeshi, his anger fading into exhaustion. "How do I even start?"
Akeshi smiled, pulling Ren to his feet. "One step at a time."
They stood there in silence for a moment, the tension between them slowly dissipating. Ren felt something shift inside him—a faint glimmer of hope, maybe, or just the realization that he didn't have to face this alone.
As they turned to leave, Akeshi glanced back at the field, his expression thoughtful. "You're not alone in this, Ren. You never were."
Ren nodded, the weight of those words sinking in. Maybe, just maybe, he wasn't as lost as he thought
•••••
Tarazune Akeshi.
That name alone sends a spark through my thoughts, like a match struck against stone, igniting something I can't quite put out. It's ridiculous, really, how much he consumes my mind, like a storm that sweeps in quietly, unnoticed at first, and then you realize—there's no escaping it.
Akeshi... He's something else.
You know, most people work hard to show the world who they are, to prove themselves, but Akeshi doesn't even need to try. He just exists—effortlessly. Everything about him is precise, calculated but with a grace that makes it seem like he was born for greatness. Every movement of his feels deliberate, as if he's aware of every second passing and how he chooses to fill them matters more than anything else in the world. That's who Akeshi is—a man of intent, purpose stitched into every breath he takes.
And me? I feel like I'm always trying to catch up to him. It's maddening how he gets under my skin without even trying. He doesn't just compete, he conquers. Whether it's in the classroom, in the way he holds himself, or in that damn smile that says, I already know I've won, Akeshi always leaves everyone else scrambling to pick up the pieces of their shattered egos.
Even me.
There's something almost inhuman about him—like he's carved from stone. His red hair, wild and unrestrained, is like fire, untouchable but always burning, always catching your attention. And those eyes—God, those eyes. It's like he sees through everything, not just the facade people put up, but right down to the core of you. They're like a blade, sharp and cutting. It's impossible to hide from him, impossible to not feel seen.
And then there's the way he moves. Effortless, fluid. It's like watching art come to life. You see him out of the corner of your eye, and everything else blurs in comparison. The world falls away when he's in motion, and all that's left is Akeshi—perfect in his execution. There's no hesitation, no doubt. Just pure, unfiltered confidence, like he was born to lead, to dominate.
And the worst part? He's not arrogant about it. He doesn't need to be. Akeshi doesn't flaunt his talent like most people would. No, he lets his actions speak, and they speak louder than anything anyone else could manage. He's humble in a way that's almost insulting because it makes the rest of us look like we're trying too hard. And maybe we are. Trying to keep up with him is like trying to chase a shadow—it's always out of reach, no matter how fast you run.
But it's not just that. There's something else about him that gets to me, something I can't quite put into words. Maybe it's the way he looks at me sometimes, like he's figured out a part of me that I don't even understand. It's frustrating—infuriating, even—because no one else does that. No one else sees past what I choose to show them. But Akeshi? He sees everything. Every flaw, every crack, and somehow, he still stands there like it's all part of some puzzle he's already solved.
And damn it, I hate how much I admire him for it.