Overgrown ➵ Akashi Seijuro

prologue

Prologue

"Straighten your blouse, Akane, and smooth that crease in your skirt."

I licked my dry lips as I did what Mother instructed. Her soft hands were on my shoulders, smoothing down the fabric there, and she adjusted the collar of my shirt for what felt like the hundredth time. For every crease I smoothed out, she seemed to find a dozen more.

My mother was smiling, but I could tell she was nervous from the way she couldn't keep her hands still, and from the lack of colour in her face.

My father watched us, a wry smile on his face.

"I think Akane is presentable now," he chided gently – even though he looked ready to faint. "If you fuss any longer, we'll be late to the meeting, which will be a worse impression on Akashi-kun."

Mother nodded. "Right," she said, stepping back and surveying me like I was some kind of masterpiece. "Don't step on the grass now," she said, as though I was a flighty child about to run amuck at any given moment.

I refrained from rolling my eyes. "Understood, Mother." As well as becoming fidgety, I had noticed that my mother became obsessed with cleanliness when nervous.

We traipsed forward. I craned my neck back and my eyes widened as I caught sight of the house we were visiting for the day, where my parents hoped to close an important business deal.

It was the largest house I had ever visited. I felt as small as an ant in comparison to it, and the white walls gleamed as though it had been painted only yesterday, with no sign of wear. The gardens, too, were meticulous and spread out from the house in an elegant wave. Everything about this place screamed wealth, wealth, and more wealth.

My parents were wealthy, but I gathered enough from the outside alone to know that the Akashi's wealth far exceeded our own.

I didn't understand much about the true nature of this business deal – my parents rarely discussed their business around me – but I knew enough to understand that this meeting was important, and could possibly create a lot of money for us. I understood that neither of my parents wanted anything to potentially ruin closing a deal with the Akashi household, which included me being on my best behaviour. I grimaced. It felt like my shirt's collar was choking me.

The path to the house was long and felt like it went on for miles until, finally, we arrived. A man stood at the entrance. Even though it was only to be a casual talk, he wore a suit that looked expensive – all the buttons gleamed in the sunlight. He was tall, and his eyes cold, which made me quickly avert my gaze.

Instead, my eyes focused on the small figure behind him: a boy, around my age, with a shock of red hair. He must be the man's son.

The man inclined his head to my parents. "Welcome. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintances."

Even his voice was cold: it carried authority, as though he expected to be obeyed. I shivered.

My parents bowed and I quickly followed suit. "The pleasure is ours, Akashi-kun," my father said smoothly. "Thank you for considering our offer."

"I hope it will end up being fruitful for us both, Hirai-kun," the man said. He waved a hand back almost dismissively to the boy behind him. "My son, Seijuro," The red-haired boy – Seijuro – bowed. I swallowed. Even just by looking at his neat clothes and straight posture, I knew how distinguished he must be.

I wasn't surprised, considering the man his father appeared to be. His upbringing must have been strict, even more so than mine.

My father rested a light hand on my shoulder and smiled. "And this is our daughter, Akane."