terriblesportsimagines:

Oh man, at first I was like “How am I going to write this ask?”  And then I fell in LOVE.  This is easily one of my favorite things I’ve written for this blog and I giggle every time I read it.  I hope this is what you wanted and I hope you enjoy!

Akashi Seijuro

You were nervous.

Well, a little more than that, since sending your baby off
to kindergarten was a big deal.  You weren’t used to being away from him
and it was going to be so hard.  But that wasn’t really why you
were nervous.  You were nervous because you knew your son, and knew his
temperament and you were afraid it would not reflect well in a school
environment.

He… didn’t play well with others, at least when others
didn’t fall in line.  Admittedly, you probably hadn’t socialized him as
well as you should have, and the only children he’d been exposed to were those
of your friends, which were all older or younger, and your husband’s friends,
which were similar age, but who, for the most part, let him have his own way.

You loved your little man, but there was no mistaking the
resemblance to your husband.  He was like a miniature Akashi Seijuro, with
all his strange quirks.  Quirks which were going to cause tension in a
kindergarten environment.  Honestly, there were sometimes you wondered how
he could possibly be only five years old.

He was obsessive about order and though you’d done your best
to bring it down a touch, had a bit of a superiority complex.  He wanted
those around him to fall in line and do as he said all the time, and
unfortunately, you know most children would not enjoy being told what to
do.  He was also a sweet little boy with a fondness for candy and a
generous heart.  It was just getting through the layers of Akashi
to see that.

He was a confident little boy, and so despite your humming
and hawing, trotted off into the school without any problem.  Seijuro
stood beside you, and arm around your waist as you watched your baby take his
first steps of independence, worrying at your lip the whole time.

“He will be fine, _____,” Seijuro commented lightly,
amusement in his tone.  “He’s my son.  He’ll have them all in line by
lunch.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” you muttered, wringing your
hand.  You wanted to stay and watch, wanted to supervise.  You’d
warned him, told him that other children might not like to be bossed around,
and might not adhere to his version of order.  But that was all you can
do.

The day passed with agonizing slowness.  You did your
best to keep busy, and Seijuro worked from home, even managing to draw you away
for a little alone time, since you had the time.  Still, you half
expected to get a phone call from the school with some problem or another and
it had you on edge.

When the time came to finally pick your son up, you
and your husband made your way back to the school.  Unlike some, he wasn’t
waiting outside, so you went in to find his classroom. 

You heard the wailing long before you ever reached the
room.  Fear stung the back of your throat – it didn’t sound like your son,
but it was familiar, and you just knew your son was at the heart of it.

Sure enough, when you entered the room, your husband behind
you, your eyes immediately found the short red hair of your son.  He was
standing awkwardly in one corner of the classroom, chin down, while another
little boy, one with bright blond hair, sobbed hysterically a few feet
away.  A familiar blond man knelt beside him, trying to console him, while
the teacher stood by and murmured at your son.

You sighed, hurrying forward to catch your son about the
shoulders.  His little face shot up and the solemn look in his eyes made
your heart clench, especially when he reached for you right away. 

“Akashicchi!” The blond man complained and when you looked
over he was glaring at your husband.  “We went through this last time!”

Seijuro blinked slowly.  “We did,” he said.  “And
I’m not repeating myself.”

Your hand shot out and smacked your husband solidly in the
middle before you turned your attention back to your clinging five year
old.  “Okay sweety, what happened?”

“He was a meany!” The blond child wailed.  “He’s always
a meany!”

“He wouldn’t play with me,” your son replied, nonplussed,
though he clutched you tighter. 

“I wanted to be the king!  He never lets me be the
king!” The blond boy refuted, glaring as hard as his little gold eyes could
muster.  “He said he would behead me for t-t-treason!”

Despite how serious it was for the two boys, you had to try
very, very hard not to laugh, and you could see amusement lurking in
your husband’s crimson eyes.  Kise, less so, but that was mostly because
he was too busy rolling his eyes at Seijuro.

“I’m the king,” your son commented, dead serious,
tone every bit as imperious as his father on his worst day.  “I am
absolute.  He said I was stupid and no one wants to be friends with
me.”  At this his eyes dropped to the floor and you could see, behind the
serene mask, a very real fear.  “He said Kei, Ai, Hiyashi and Daisuke
don’t even like me.”

You had to wonder where he’d even picked up that
phrase because you were pretty sure you’d tamed that out of your husband years
ago.

Both you and Kise winced at this, and you could see this
upset your son a great deal.  The other Generation of Miracles’ children
were probably the only friends he had, and certainly the ones he saw the most
and were the most comfortable with.  That included Kise’s son, most of the
time, although of the six children, these two butted heads the most.

“That wasn’t very nice,” Kise said on a sigh, stroking his
son’s head.

“He said he was gonna kill me!” The blond boy
shrieked, pointing an accusing finger at your son. 

You sighed.  “I don’t think he meant literally.”

“He tried to organize an uprising,” your son said very
seriously.  “He needs to die.”

You immediately turned to your smirking husband.  “You
and I are going to have a talk about appropriate and five year olds
when we get home.”

Seijuro just snorted.

“Okay, I think everyone here needs to apologize,” you
announced a moment later, shaking your head.  “Sweetheart, you can’t
threaten to kill people, even when they don’t do what you want.”

“I wasn’t actually going to kill him,” your son
grumbled.  When you squeezed him in warning, he sighed heavily and said,
loudly, if sullenly, “I’m sorry.”

Kise, picking up where you left off, patted his son’s
back.  “And you need to apologize for what you said too, little man. 
No matter how mad he made you, you shouldn’t call people stupid or tell them no
one likes them.”

The little blond boy sniffled, pursing his lips and
narrowing his eyes in what looked very much like challenge.  “…Sorry.” He
bit out, then added a moment later, “Next time I’m gonna over throw you. 
I’ll be absolute.”

Your son’s chin came up to meet the challenge.  “I’ll
crush you.”

“I’ll crush you.”

Oh good, there were two of them.  Maybe it wasn’t a
good thing that all your kids spent so much time together?

You couldn’t help but giggle a little later in their
lives when neither one came out on top, and it was, in fact, little Kuroko Ai
who lead with a sweet smile and iron fist, much to both fathers’ despair.

I love this!!!