When he was born, his parents wanted nothing more than the best for him. The small baby boy born with golden hair was like the sun to them, their eyes glistening every time they looked at him. He was the only child they ever needed, and they never wanted another, more than content with their perfect representation of their love. And so, he was spoiled relentlessly as an only child.
Ever since he was born, he was given the best foods, entertainment, and anything he could have ever wanted. So he grew up in the concrete jungles of an eastern country, running around their estate with mischief and somewhat sadistic tendencies. Sometimes, just because he felt like it, he would push over servants and giggle at the expensive china they dropped, eager to see the results of their "clumsiness".
And there was nothing they could do. It was their word against his, and as the beloved only child of their employers, they could only endure it. Some of them held onto the belief that it was simply a childish phase of his or perhaps a plea for his parents' attention - in which he already received a surplus of. But any hope soon vanished when the young boy made friends with a more sadistic personality than him.
He followed him around like a puppy, staring at him with adoration, and did anything he could to gain his approval. First, he was repetitively ignored, the older male turning his head with a scoff at his attempts. That was when he gave a very amused chuckle at the way the servants scampered away from their young master. And so the abuse became more prominent, every single individual within the estate subject to the whims of the two mischievous and imp-like boys.
His parents were worried, reasonably so, as the harm then transferred from the servants to their son. And yet, he took every snide remark, malignant slap, and demeaning or menial chore his idol sent him off to do with a smile. He was happy. Maybe he didn't understand the harm inflicted on him was not normal. He hadn't had much interaction with other kids his age, after all, especially since - at that time - he was schooled privately in the comfort of his own home. Then again, something gave them the idea that he knew exactly what was happening, and loved it anyway. It was a mystery.
But they continued watching, scared to make him distance himself from them, silently hoping everything would fix itself with time. Becoming worse and worse, it escalated over the years, his attachment to his idol furthering. And tearing them apart was no longer an option, as, without seeing the older boy for more than a week, he regressed, and attempted to find a way to sneak out of the estate - something he was frighteningly good at.
He refused to do anything else when the older male wasn't with him, and when he was unable to even call him, he became filled with anger or hopelessness. No one truly knew why that was or why his reactions were so extreme. They simply were, and no psychiatrist or therapist could change that. In fact, they seemed to make it worse, the blonde often threatening them to shut their mouths before they lost their tongues.
And just when everything seemed hopeless, he suddenly changed. It was after the day of his tenth birthday. He seemed...calm. Though his friend would come and play with him, he was exactly the same whether he was there or not. Rather, he was happy with or without him, and most of the time, that happiness was proportional to the distance he was from his camera. As his father pointed it out, the boy couldn't do anything but blush and hide behind it, his eyes darting to the other side of the room.
"I'm glad you're excited about photography," his mother smiled, petting the boy's head lovingly while they sat at the table, eating coconut curry - her favorite.
The boy nodded his head quickly, holding the camera his father gifted to him to his heart. He looked a bit lost in thought, his eyes quivering with joyful emotion. His mouth was slightly agape in fascination, his mother using that to place a spoonful of curry there, the blonde jumping in surprise, but munching on it slowly nonetheless. Still, he remained silent, looking down at the screen of the camera. No photos were displayed, but he still looked at it with amazement, his face flushed.
"If you're that enthusiastic about it, should we go out somewhere today to snap a few pictures?" his father hummed, leaning his chin in his palm while watching the younger boy light up with sheer happiness.
"Please!"
"How about the Ashberry Reef? There's an incredible island right next to it with the most beautiful sights. Waterfalls, streams, untouched plants and forests. Wouldn't that be nice?"
"Mm, so nice," the boy's mother sighed, placing her hands on her cheeks with delight, "We could sail on the crisp waters. And I just bet the air there is as clean as Vethela!"
Despite the energetic conversations between both adults about the vacation, their son was none too pleased about it. Though the idea of seeing something naturally beautiful was very tempting, he already had that, and something in him pulled him towards seeing it again. Groaning, he tucked his knees into his chest and all but hugged his camera, wondering how he could find her again. It was a puzzle to him.
"Akari. You don't look well. Are you sick?"
Blinking once, then twice, the younger boy reluctantly nodded his head. Concerned, his mother held onto his hand while his father pressed the back of his hand to the boy's forehead. Indeed, he did feel an abnormal heat, but it was not because he was sick. At least, not in the traditional sense. Still, it didn't stop his parents from holding him close and telling him they would get the doctor so he could feel all better.
"I'll be okay," he murmured, looking up with guilty eyes, "You should go on the trip, and I'll stay here and get better."
"How could we go off and have fun when our baby boy is sick?"
"So...you won't take pictures for me?"
The blonde's lip quivered, touching both of his parents' hearts deeply. They knew very well he prized their photography, especially when it was relating to pure nature. So much so, in fact, that his room had their works and mentions in magazines and newspapers postered all along his walls. And each of his favorites was kept in a special binder he made. So to hear that he wanted more made them hesitant to refuse.
"Alright, Riri," his father smiled, rubbing the boy's cheek to get rid of the grain of rice that stuck to him, "We'll get some pictures for you and when we get back, you have to be all better, okay?"
"Yeah. I'll be a good boy. Promise."
That was what he said at least. Yet the moment they left, the young boy lovingly waving them off and blowing kisses, he immediately looked to the left to the right before bolting towards the east side of the estate. Pushing aside the vines that hung from the bricks, he snuck under the wall and sprinted towards the city.
In pressing worry for his safety, his personal caretaker rushed after him, not knowing he feigned being sick. The boy was not known for his kindness to those that served him nor was he labeled as tolerable to those who interrupted him. So by tagging along when he was not invited, the boy's caretaker fully anticipated a temper tantrum or perhaps to have rocks thrown at him again. That was precisely the reason he tried to stay as far away as possible while still following after his young master.
He was very much surprised when they had entered the park, the blonde not heading towards the playground, but rather, a bush. The boy looked forward with a determined gaze, clenching his camera fondly in his hands. A silly grin then spread from one side of his face to the other, tilting his head to the side with bliss. He held the device in his hands up, trying to steady it as best as he could.
"Young master!"
Surprised, the boy jumped, his nerves dancing uncomfortably. He then gave a guilty look to the young man behind him, his lip quivering as though he was on the brink of tears. It was a sight that no one had truly seen of him. He disliked showing vulnerability to others, especially those he thought he was better than - and that was virtually everyone. So to see him pressing his finger to his lip with a pleading expression came as quite the shock.
"What are you doing?" the blonde questioned, his voice shy and meek, "Please, please, please, be quiet. Please?"
"You're not going to yell at me, young master?"
"If I yell, I'll get caught!" the boy responded, placing his hands over his mouth when he realized he had been a little too loud, doing the same to the man, "So we gotta be quiet."
His caretaker raised an eyebrow, staring over the bush to notice nothing in particular. The playground had children who had just gotten out of school, some with parents, and some without. Confused, the young man took note of the way the blonde was staring, attempting to put together what he was focused on. That was when he noted a somewhat drunk expression he had when looking at a little girl with (h/c) locks in pigtails. She looked around left and right, oblivious that the blonde was taking pictures of her.
"I-I'm not mad," Akari reaffirmed, giving a guilty look in the direction of the young man, but not daring to look him in the eyes, only to steal a glance here and there, "I'm not. Just...don't look at her too much...'kay? I found her first..."
That was how the entire mansion came to know about the boy's little crush. He would sneak out day after day just to go to that park and take pictures of her, never showing himself. And sometimes, when she wasn't able to go to the park after school, he followed her to the grocery store she frequented. And with a determined attitude, he left his allowance with one of the staff to pay for her groceries before dashing out of the store. Every time he did so, an awkward smile was placed on his face for the rest of the day.
Certainly, it was a little odd to everyone that he always followed her around, but never spoke to her. In fact, many called it to attention how he had even met her. And if he had met her normally, they hadn't the slightest clue why he would refuse to play with her when she had clearly been looking for him at first. It was more than just being shy, wasn't it? Then again, when questioned about it...
"If I get close...I can't take good pictures, can I? A-And she'll think it's weird! And...I don't know how to talk to her! H-How do you talk to a...to a...to a princess? No, an angel? No...a goddess? I...I dunno how to talk to...a goddess..."
And despite the protests the staff around him made about it, and their offered support to help him learn to talk to a girl, he wouldn't hear of it. Still, even if he wouldn't accept, and darted off whenever anyone mentioned his little crush, he found himself more empathetic towards the people that had helped raise him since he was born. So he got closer. Then closer. And further still until they were practically family.
Even when his parents returned and weeks, months, and years passed, he still remained close to them. And while he had become significantly more down-to-earth and kinder, they still didn't understand his line of thinking. Though they expected him to forget about his crush for the (h/c) haired girl, as he did with the older friend he idolized, he never did. Over the years, he only became more determined to figure out a way to stand in front of her or even speak.
"Young master?" a voice called, a maid giving a confused expression to the blonde who looked up at her with gleaming eyes, "Is there something you need?"
"Calista, I...I wanna do that. Can I?"
Looking down at the table on which the woman folded the freshly washed laundry, she gave a more befuddled expression. Despite his progress in becoming more empathetic and understanding, he was still spoiled rotten. He didn't even change himself most days and had never been in a kitchen. Yet he seemed genuinely interested in doing something so mundane as laundry. She almost gave a pity chuckle at the joke she thought he was making but resigned herself to remaining quiet.
"I suppose so? Would you like to do your laundry?"
The blonde quickly nodded his head, practically bursting at the seams to do some chores. But his inexperience made it difficult for any passing individuals not to chuckle with amusement. Unused to carrying a laundry bag, he practically dragged it across the marble floors, giving small grunts on his way to the laundry room. Occasionally, he would take a break and give a big sigh, giving grateful words of appreciation when some servants would get him a glass of water. They then cheered him on as he made his way to his target.
"I did it," the blonde bragged, placing his hands on his hips and pointing his nose up with pride, "That wasn't so hard!"
"Very good, young master, but now it's time to separate the laundry."
"Separate it?"
"Yes, then we wash them, hang them up to dry, fold them, organize them to fit your drawers, and carry them back to your room before putting them in their right place."
Akari gave a bigger sigh and slumped against the wall. He had never imagined it was such a chore to do something as small as clean clothes. Then again, with a determined spark of emotion, he rose from the wall and clenched his fist, pushing himself to do the work in front of him. While any servant believed he would give up after a few moments, he did it all to completion, even to the point of putting them away in his closet.
He then continued to ask for chores to do, learning things like sweeping, vacuuming, cleaning windows, etc. The boy was especially fond of learning to cook, something his older friend helped him to develop as well. He was incredibly proud of every little thing he learned, and while it was slightly concerning, it all became clear when one of his teachers arranged for a parent-teacher meeting. Apparently, he had decided to become a house husband, or at the very least, useful to the (h/c) haired girl he adored so much since girls "like smart and capable boys who can help them if they need it".
So, the moment he returned from the new school he had insisted on going to, he set right off to refining himself. Truth be told, almost every new chore he had attempted to do baffled him. He was no natural when it came to labor, more inclined towards jobs with creativity or ingenuity. Still, he continued to put in the effort, wanting to be able to do as much as possible. Nothing had changed, even his reluctance to directly see the younger girl he crushed on.
The boy's mother and father were ecstatic to see him so motivated by even the most mundane things. His attachment to nature had increased and his love of photography brought him closer to them and to those who helped raise him. Yet his empathy for others drastically decreased, detrimentally so. He found the worst in those he hadn't come to know and even had more tendencies towards violence.
Eventually, their concern for his actions became so frightening that he had to be sent off to a boarding school on the other side of the country. He was hurt, at first, when his parents had told him. Confused and scared, he tried to run away, going to the only place he felt at solace. In tears, he angrily clenched his fists and marched down a street he knew all too well. The neighborhood was not a great one. In fact, it was not even a decent one.
As he turned his head to the left, he heard a scream, seeing someone getting robbed. He gave a huff at it, a feeling of dread building up within him. Soon he arrived at an oak tree. There was nothing special about it. It was simply a regular tree. But it did allow him to climb up and sit on the heightened branch, the blonde crossing his legs and taking in a deep breath. The night sky was always so polluted where she lived, but since she was there, it was ironically the only place he could get a breath of fresh air.
Akari looked to his left with a closed-off posture, giving an awkward smile as he saw the (h/c) haired girl sleeping peacefully with her favorite stuffed animal. The male then made his way slowly towards the edge of the branch, pulling up the window to then sneak through it quietly. He had never been in her room, even if he was constantly looking through it. Besides not having been so close to her in so long, it was one of the reasons he was so unnerved and yet thrilled by being there.
The boy took a look around, trying to resist smiling as wide as he was. As much as he watched her, he never had a true conversation with her. Rather, most everything he knew about her was due to his stalking habits. But to see things that she held dear surrounding her peaceful form - it all complimented her perfectly. He laid down on the floor, hugging one of the teddy bears she had in her room. It put him at ease but made him feel more sadness than before.
Going to a boarding school wasn't going to be the end of the world, he knew that. But it felt like it would be the end of his. It wouldn't be a shimmy through his estate's wall, a small walk through the forest and an excitable sprint to the park. He would need to traverse the countryside and hitchhike on trains just to catch a glimpse of her. A sigh slipped past his lips, the boy rolling over on his back and sitting up quickly, blushing as he rested his eyes on the (h/c) haired girl.
"I'll miss you, goddess," he whined, holding his camera tightly, "but I'll come back. I promise. When I'm older and...maybe more confident. Sorry."
The blonde gave a heartbroken expression, knowing he couldn't remain there forever. He sat there for a while, trying to take the last few minutes of her presence to heart. It would be some time before he could figure out a way to get back to her, but with those few moments, maybe he could have found a way to get through it. Taking one last picture, he held his camera tighter to his chest, his eyes wavering as he glanced at her, tears forming slowly before he slipped out the window, speaking enthusiastically.
"The next time you see me, I promise I'll speak to you! Promise!"