Series: Akagi (Ten)

Rated: R

Warning: mention of shota x old men, lack of beta-ing

Summary: Middle aged Akagi reflects back on the memorable people he had met in his life.

Couples: If you approve of all pairings mentioned in this fic, then congratulations you are a TRUE FKMT FUJOSHI

The sunny afternoon was a peaceful one to the residents of the North Eastern prefecture. A well-dressed man sat alone with his coffee in an restaurant, taking in the fresh air, a pen poised at his lips. Akagi, aged 45 years, continued writing in his notebook.


A cunning man, a detective on official business but with hidden and nurtured ties to the underworld. He is proud but not at all hesitant to bow down and humble himself if need be to achieve his goals. His true character is most of all evident in the bedroom, his hunger for influence the main component in his deviant desires. His body is short but powerful, so it was with physical strength rather than words that I was able to get him to compromise to my own interests.

Akagi paused to pick up his cigarette from the ashtray. A crooked smile.

It was an interesting experience, but afterwards the man got too sure of himself. There is nothing I hate more than people believing they've got you figured out. Any further offers, tricks and lies he made in order to hook me had failed. In the end, all he wanted to get out of me was more money. I could see right through his facade.

Frowning, Akagi turned the page over. He didn't feel like writing any more about the retired officer.


He is probably the only man I'd still address formally though I've known him for such a long time.

Akagi drew on the cigarette, thoughtfully exhaled smoke.

A habit grew into a pet name, which I needed to keep reserved.

He is hardworking, but wasn't good with calculating his chances in the long term. When I met him he was probably at the lowest point of his life, weak-willed and unable to counter the tide of his misfortune. He is an honest and responsible man and in the face of death he would entrust his fate to someone better equipped to the situation at hand. He had accepted that he could not do better on his own, and I don't hold it against him. He had taken a lesson from that encounter.

The last I saw of him were twins cradled in each of his arms, joyful laughter ringing in the blooming garden of a lovely house. A straightforward woman calling his first name, which I had never used. What would she say if she knew how he called mine, in unbridled passion, gasping beneath me?

A wistful sigh.

He seemed to have finally found his happiness with his new family. He is the kind of man who wanted to settle down, and he never would have been able to understand the restlessness I had... It was a meaningful time we shared, but we both knew that it could never last.


In some ways he reminds me of Yasuoka, but he presents himself a lot smoother, a chummy attitude in order to put strangers at ease. A con man experienced in trickery who eventually got what was coming to him.

He was hurt, upset and full of hollow threats. Healthy, functioning fingers had been taken from him and his spirit was crushed.

Akagi paused. It was difficult writing this chapter.

He was terrified of me. He was submissive while he feigned anger. I was close as I spoke to him, I was correct about his frustrations and the rejection he experienced all his life. He became aroused and hated himself for it. He was utterly helpless, so I made him an offer which, once he agreed to, he would be unable to go back on. It was curiosity I felt rather than pity. He was like a wild beast, and his strong jaws bit me hard enough to leave a scar that I still carry today.

Absentmindedly Akagi rubbed his left shoulder. Things that had taken place then seemed alien to him now; he understood exactly what had motivated him in his younger years, but he didn't care to note down all exact details. He turned the page.

THE FAKE (my impostor Hirayama)

They said this man resembled me physically, though I immediately was able to pick out our differences in facial structure. Him using my name, it was like an invitation for a closer personal inspection. I found many more details that were different between our bodies, and he threw curses at me and screamed bloody murder while playing along, holding on tight for more. All but shallow words. The encounter was short-lived but lively nevertheless.

He was confident but foolish. He never expected to meet up with me, so he found himself forced to be on the defensive when indirectly confronted about true identity. He might have had photographic memory but he lacked the foresight to not rely on false pride.

Initially the main difference was his requirement for security, his weight on rationalism. The man was no gambler and might have realized it himself, if only he had lived long enough. An unfortunate victim of a meaningless gamble he was unwilling to partake in. May he rest in peace.


Another one of those crooks. I admit I hadn't studied his character as closely as I had Yasuoka, because at the time I met him I was preparing myself for the battle with Washizu, which required all of my mental energy. But I knew enough to know what to expect from him, and what he expected from me was clear.

He is stronger than both Nangou and Yasuoka, but as a trained fighter he possesses a greater sense of self-control; I could tell he wanted more but he was gentle with me, he was cautious towards my wounds and my weakened physical state. Yasuoka watched us and I can't remember whether he joined in, but he probably did. I must have passed out that celebration night.


I remember him mostly because he once warmed up a mahjong game for me. An impressionable youth, perhaps the first boy who openly admired me. I wasn't really interested, but he was persistent. Desperate, maybe. He tasted like vanilla.

I made sure to cut off all ties afterwards. The boy had better stay in his own world.

"Such a heartbreaker, Shigeru," Akagi sighed to himself and turned the page.


No one could ever be like me, but should anyone come remotely close, then it would be this man. At least, that's what I felt when I first met him. In the end he failed to understand my need for the irrational, the insane. He was a man who long operated by his own set of rules, but, he was an outcast just like me, and that was what drew me to him.

I'm not sure whether he knew or could tell how old I really was; I was pretty tall for my age and "brat" to him could have meant anything under 30. He was able to tell that I was a virgin though, and it excited him; I let him be my first, it was a ride of madness and wild guns and I had passed out quickly from sensory overload. I regained my senses and we repeated. It was both painful and amazing. I shall never forget the energy and wickedness that flowed in him, before it extinguished forever at the end of our final game. May he rest in peace.

Akagi smirked darkly, then continued on the next page.


Good old Iwao, rest in peace. The tycoon of a nation, the bloodsucking beast of a century. He reminded me briefly of Ichikawa, except that he was even older. He was a tough one, but eventually even he broke down.

His idea of pleasure was the death of his opponent, youthful life flickering to it's end before his thirsting eyes. And that was just fine with me, but I went and tried to see whether the conventional ways to ignite the passion still worked for him. He tried beating me but he was a fragile man. He turned out to be quite vulnerable to my touch and suddenly appeared to be much, much smaller. To me, it was like riding a hell wagon of demons. I was light headed and I believe we both were seeing things. Break time was far too short.

Akagi paused, searching his mind for more details of that particular night. It had been a long, long night, in which way too many memorable things happened.

He was my life's greatest match. I had found a certain kind of satisfaction at the point of his destruction. It had been what I was looking for, and all that followed that experience were just cheap thrills in comparison, at least in regard of a meaningless gamble.

He decided that he would need to made a separate entry for this chapter alone later. His hand tired, he snapped the book shut and pocketed the pen. He took a deep breath of the evening breeze. It was time meet up with Ten.

Please feel free to complain if you would have liked to have seen any other characters that I have not included in Akagi's amorous adventures (Yagi is a retard).