this is a call out post. you know what to do with it, i don't know why you need me to explain anything. some characters (faded on the roster) require canon review, and are technically unavailable. you can still request them, though. it'll just take me longer to get to them.
[ bokuto’s not even sure why he tries - he’s never lied to akaashi before, never had a reason to. and maybe that’s why he tries. he doesn’t know any different, didn’t realize just how well akaashi would be able to see right through him. he feels it, now, that even when he lets the i’m fine leave his lips, he almost wants to wince. what is he doing? what has he come to that he’s trying to lie to akaashi?
it almost makes him sick.
not necessarily the act of it, but the idea that he doesn’t even know what he’s doing. doesn’t know enough about where he stands and what he is supposed to do that he just feels lost. he is not ace material, not any more, not for a college team - but when you take that away from him, take that out of him, what is left?
akaashi’s hands feel nice, and bokuto can feel the tension he’d been harboring over these last few days ease away. he’d always known akaashi’s hands had magic in them, something above and beyond just a normal setter, but maybe that’s just bokuto. maybe that’s just him, clinging to a time that had been good. a him he’d liked.
his eyes close as he enjoys the press of akaashi’s thumbs into his temples, enjoys how soft akaashi’s voice is when he speaks. never mind that he doesn’t quite understand, at first, what he’s saying. not until he hears i’m not going back and a kind of panic shoots through him. but what about school? what about volleyball? bokuto tenses at the idea but then feels akaashi move, looks up to see those eyes staring back at him. ]
Akaashi, you can't. Volleyball practices-
[ my ace echoes a little, and bokuto stares. my ace he said, the captain of fukurodani. the smartest, most loyal, depending, talented setter they’ve ever had. he looks down at bokuto without pulling his hands away and that’s probable for the best - he’s not sure what he’d do without the contact.
as it stands, the contact itself isn’t much help, but akaashi says my ace and bokuto’s face tightens, just before the creases of his eyes start to water. like a dam cracking open, bokuto feels everything bubble. higher and higher, and right over the edge. he reaches out and grabs at the sides of akaashi’s shirt, leans forward to tuck his head into akaashi’s shoulder, and sobs. ]
[ Practice, Akaashi thinks, is in capable hands. Coach had been understanding, and had practically given his approval. The first years, and the new second years that weren't teammates the last year, they had been confused. But Onaga had given him a knowing look, and promised to keep an eye on things while he was away, no matter how long it would be.
Though he hopes it won't be long, he's prepared to use every single sick day he has available at Fukurodani to do what needs to be done.
So he stands there in Bokuto's doorway, not daring to look away from him, not even thinking to take his hands away. Instead he keeps touching him, his eyebrows slowly raising as he starts to protest. Many people think that he's not particularly expressive, and he supposes that's true. He's far more stoic than most people, but it's always been a special skill of his ace's, the ability to make him feel and emote far more than he's ever done before. Now, it's a different sort of seriousness on his face - a determination he usually saves for volleyball, channeled and focused to Bokuto. ]
Practice does not mean more to me than you do.
[ And then, it all comes crashing down like a wave.
But Akaashi takes it, adjusting his touch as Bokuto tucks his head against him. He moves to slip his arms around him, stretching out so that he can wrap him up in them completely. One hand settles on the back of his head, stroking through his hair. The other fists in the back of his shirt, between his shoulders. For a moment, he has to close his eyes, biting his lips again as he tries to fight back the burn he can feel in the back of his own throat at the knowledge, the feeling, of Bokuto's tears.
His voice drops to a gentle murmur, as he tucks his nose against his temple. ] You are the most important thing in my life, Bokuto-san. You will always come first, no matter what has happened or where we are.
[ but he clings to the old ways - the things he'd known, the practiced he'd been familiar with. he knew when practice would be and how long it would run, knew that he played a role in what they did and how well it went. he knew, knew, that no matter what happened, everything would work out. his teammates, his coaches, akaashi - they'd all work him back up to a place where he knew he could do what he had to do.
now? he doesn't know anything. he doesn't even know if he's still on the team, still in school. he doesn't know what day it is or time or anything. he doesn't know who he is or why he's here and he doesn't know why akaashi is here either.
why he's bothering.
he doesn't know what does it - if it's the my ace or mean to me but bokuto cracks, buckles, and he feels it all crash down over him. he tucks into akaashi despite how he has to lean over a little more than he used to, holding onto akaashi's shirt as he shakes with it. he sobs, and then quiets, tears staining the fabric on akaashi's shoulder. this is embarrasing, more embarrassing than he can even handle, but akaashi doesn't tense up and he doesn't pull away and bokuto doesn't know why he's still fighting. ]
I don't know what I'm doing here... [ it comes out a whisper, wet around his shaky breaths. they're standing in the middle of the doorway of bokuto's one bedroom apartment, his dorm, and anyone could come by and see him and anyone could notice what's happening, but bokuto doesn't care. can't care.
not when it takes all of his effort just to keep standing in the first place. ]
[ How long do they stand there like that? Akaashi doesn't know, and he honestly doesn't care. He just stays there, smoothing his fingers through Bokuto's hair and gently nosing at him, holding him through his sobs. It's never been this bad before, he's never seen Bokuto break down like this, but he wishes it never happened, that his ace never had to go through this, and that he never had to see it.
It's heartbreaking. ]
That's okay. [ Voice still a murmur, he curls his fingers around the back of Bokuto's neck, giving him a gentle squeeze. If everything could just be like it was, before Bokuto graduated, then he'd do everything he possibly could to make it so. But there was nothing to do then, and there's not much to do now. ] That's okay, we'll figure it out.
[ Carefully, as he loosens his fist from Bokuto's shirt and moves down to palm his hip, Akaashi guides them back into the room. This is a familiar dance, in a way. Realize the problem, give Bokuto time to decompress, and then work through the problem until he's bolstered up to his usual self again. But this time, he takes a far more hands-on approach to it, refusing to let go of him for even a moment.
Easy enough, in the end. He kicks the door closed behind him, allowing the room and them to descend into darkness. Maybe it hasn't been good, for the past week or so Bokuto has been like this, but he was alone then. Being isolated has never helped him. But now, now he won't be alone, no matter what that means. ]
[ he's lost all control of it at this point, his breaths sounding more like sobs than breathing. he knows how pathetic it must be, how pathetic he is, and all it does is add to it. there's no reason akaashi should be here for him, there's no reason anyone should. he doesn't deserve the attention or the energy or the care, but still he leans in for it. still he chases the comfort it brings.
akaashi says that's okay and he knows it's not, it never is. he doesn't want to be like this and he doesn't want to be this useless and he doesn't, above all else, want to burden akaashi with it. but the squeeze at the back of his neck is comforting, the warm spread of akaashi's hand on his hip. he doesn't let go of the anchor hold he has on akaashi's jacket and he won't give up where his face is pressed into his neck, but like always, akaashi knows that.
we'll figure it out he says, walking bokuto backwards. he walks with him, lets akaashi dictate and guide, as the next breath he takes is accompanied by a soft whine. figure what out? how worthless he is as a player? how it is he became an ace in the first place? there's nothing to figure and no reason it should be we, and that's all there is to it.
they make it back to the room, and the door closes, and everything - once again - is darkness. bokuto knows this place, understands this feeling, has been exactly here for days - and yet, now, with akaashi here, he is embarrassed. steps closer up against him like he's scared. he hates this, hates this so much, and now akaashi can tell. ]
I'm sorry. [ is what he whispers next, his body shaking with each breath. ] This is so pathetic and stupid, I'm sorry...
Don't. [ Akaashi slips his arm around Bokuto's waist, hand going to palm his other hip now, holding him as closely pressed to him as he can. It feels like he's trying to make them one person, and maybe he is - maybe if he does that, then he'll be able to help Bokuto through this. Maybe he'll be able to show him that he's more than his depression, his slumps, the thoughts that he's worthless.
Maybe it would better show him just how much his setter cares.
Letting his eyes adjust to the darkness, he strokes long fingers along the curve of his neck. If this is how he's been living for the past week or so, then it isn't much of a shock that he's hit such a low point. But it's true, in the end. Akaashi means every word he says, and now that he's here he has no intention of going anywhere. Practice doesn't matter, school can wait. His parents' inevitable disapproval is nothing to him. And though he came here with just the clothes on his back, he doesn't care. Bokuto needed him, so here he is. ]
This, and you, are not pathetic. Or stupid. [ After standing like that for a long moment, he bows his head, turning it just enough that he won't be completely tucked into Bokuto's shoulder. He has to hear him, after all. ] You have never been either of these things, and I know this as a fact. If you were, then you would not have had the admiration and respect of everyone on Fukurodani. You would not have been our ace. These people, here, they don't understand you yet. But they will, and maybe they'll come to love you just as much as I do.
[ That is when Akaashi turns, burying his nose against Bokuto's shoulder, cupping the back of his head as he mumbles: ] But that would be very difficult to match, considering.
[ bokuto melts into the touch, the way that akaashi’s hand pulls him close but holds him steady at the same time. it’s not an active, aware kind of thing - he’s always known himself to be touchy feely, but it wasn’t until university that he really noticed how much he needed it returned. how much he’s been missing it, until the moment he has akaashi’s hands on his hips, wrapped around his waist, and bokuto breathes.
and it’s still a shaky breath, and his body still shudders with the force of it, but it does get easier. slowly, with each passing moment, because akaashi hasn’t turned and left him yet. akaashi hasn’t gone rigid where he’s holding him. akaashi could, just as easily, turn and leave bokuto to the darkness of his room.
but he doesn’t, and bokuto could cry in relief.
instead what he does is calm down, slowing his breathing and his quiet sobs. the hand at the back of his neck is comforting, the smell of akaashi around is comforting, and for the first time in days bokuto can actually feel that part of him start to relax. he almost doesn’t want to, though, if only because then he will have to face all of this - how he can’t even handle practice anymore, how he can’t handle anything, but then akaashi starts to talk again and bokuto pulls himself out of his head.
he wants to pull back and look at him, something in his voice clueing bokuto in to the fact this is a little different, but he doesn’t want to pull away. doesn’t think he can. so instead, he just quiets his breathing even more, calms the rest of himself down just so he doesn’t miss anything akaashi is saying.
which, really, is a good idea - because akaashi says things that not only does bokuto want, need, to hear - there’s something else. because there’s his team, there’s akaashi, there’s fukurodani - and then there’s that last comment, the one that bokuto is fairly sure stops his heart. not because he’s been waiting to hear it, not because it’s what’s been giving him problem since the beginning, but because he’s…not sure he heard that right at all. ]
Aka- [ his voice still shakes, though, and bokuto pulls akaashi closer to him. pulls his face away despite how damp it feels, how clammy. he opens his eyes but can’t bring them away from the front of akaashi’s chest, his collar bone, as he hovers. ] Akaashi what… what are you saying?
[ With the way that Bokuto seems to be finally coming down, it feels like Akaashi himself can breathe easier. The vice on his heart starts easing up, bit by bit, and the burn at the back of his throat starts to fade away. Because while he's not a very emotive person, and isn't much of a sympathy... well, anything, but cryer in this case, Bokuto has this innate ability to inspire a wealth of feelings in him. It's like he was living in a black and white movie for much of his life, and then he started attending Fukurodani Academy.
And then, there was color in his life.
It's why he fights so much to help Bokuto, to make sure the color stays in his life. To make sure that he stays as vibrant as the first day that they met one another. Maybe it seems tiring, to people who don't understand, but he gets it. He just gets Bokuto. He knows that he's boisterous and confident in spades, but it hides something else, something more, insecurities and a threat of depression. Despite the fact that he's so big, both physically and in presence, he knows that his ace is genuine and kind-hearted and maybe a little delicate at times.
So he handles him with a gentle touch, continues to stroke his neck, comb his fingers through his hair. Even when the words make their way out of his mouth, voice steady but nerves suddenly building up in his gut, he continues to try and support Bokuto in this dark place that he's been in, that they're standing together in now. Because even if he's not afraid of what his reaction might be, he can't stop the feeling from building in him.
Akaashi keeps his gaze down, as well, his hand slipping away from the back of his neck to the side. Though he should probably draw back, he just - he can't even consider it, really. He needs to keep touching Bokuto, to make sure that he's okay, even though it keeps them so very close for this. He takes a deep breath, before he sighs it out softly and shifts, going to rest their cheeks together. ]
I'm saying... [ Now that he's said it, it feels like it's both easier and harder to get it out. ] That I've probably been in love with you since the end of my first year at Fukurodani, Bokuto-san.
[ bokuto is entirely unaware of what it is he does to people, too wound around the extremes in his own mind to really have time to notice much at all. it's not that he wouldn't want to, he means no ill will towards anyone he meets at all. it just doesn't even come to mind, that there are people hurting, that there are people suffering, that there are people who don't know what it means to really feel happy - just as he feels sad.
it's not an active ignorance as an accidental one. because bokuto perceives and picks up on a lot, notices when his team is down and when it needs to be picked back up again. there are shifts to the general sense around him that he can notice and change, but when he looks out at a crowd, he doesn't think wow, i wonder if that person is having a good day, and instead just tries to ride out whichever wave he's caught.
he ends up in sync with some people more than others - kuroo, akaashi, hinata - people who come into his life and fall in step with him. enough so that he can see the way their left foot sways out where his sways in. he noticed that about akaashi, a long time ago - the days when he'd come in with a heavier dip to his shoulders, the practices he would insist on wearing sleeves. just the little things, that bokuto didn't understand, but knew that if he kept closer to akaashi that day, it'd take less time for him to relax.
akaashi is the one out of them who takes care of bokuto the most, always had. bokuto didn't realize how much he really depended on the underclassman until he was gone, and all he was left was the cold darkness of his teammates' backs. akaashi's fingers are warm, where they settle on the back of his neck, and bokuto can breathe. slowly, surely, but he's breathing. he's standing. he created the distance between them because he needed to ask the question, to make sure it was happening, and akaashi closes it again, just like always, inserting himself right into the space that bokuto didn't really want to make.
he closes his eyes, focusing on the warmth of akaashi's cheek on his own, flattening his hands against his chest. he hears the words, hears been in love with you and bokuto tenses. waits to hear the catch, waits to hear the joke, and when he doesn't get it? his hand tightens on akaashi's chest, bunching the fabric. ]
Why? [ his throat is tight, forcing the voice out in cracked and gravely bits. he takes a breath and swallows, tucking his face forward into akaashi's shoulder. ] Why me?
[ It would be easy, Akaashi thinks, to compare Bokuto to a wrecking ball. He swings through life much like one, regardless of which end of the spectrum he's sitting on. But it wouldn't be fair to Bokuto, not when there's so much more than just what people see. He's extremes, certainly, but no one has seen his ace and former captain console an upset first year. They haven't heard him go on and on about that moment, when he felt that volleyball was fun for him. What it meant to him. They haven't been on the receiving end of his affections, always varied and not always needed - but when it has been needed, it's helped far more than anything else has ever been.
Kenma was the mind of Nekoma. Still is, now, even with Kuroo and Yaku graduated. Bokuto was the heart of Fukurodani, the delicate but enormous heart that beat through all of their chests. And no one was spared, least of all Keiji.
So it was no surprise when he realized his affections, but it just seemed smarter to keep them to himself. It seemed smarter, to focus on their friendship, their synchronized steps, tosses, spikes. Even when he wanted to keep his distance, he could always tell when Bokuto just knew, even if he didn't know what it was about. No one knows Bokuto better than Akaashi does, he thinks, but at the same time he knows the reverse is true. That instinct of Bokuto's has helped him when dealing with people, despite being hit-or-miss a lot of the time.
He's just glad he didn't notice, for the two years that they were on the team together.
His own voice goes a little tight, as he speaks, but he uses his words sincerely. He makes sure that he says them so that Bokuto will understand, because he meant it - no one, nothing, is more important than Bokuto. He liked volleyball, before. He enjoyed playing it, liked it as an outlet and for something that he could do. But Bokuto made it into something more, made it a thing that he wanted to work hard at, to perfect to the best of his capabilities.
Bokuto breathed life into it for him, and brought brighter color into his world. ]
Because you are one of the hardest working people I've ever known, and you care so much about everything, Bokuto-san. You put so much passion into volleyball, into just living, even when you have these lows like this. [ He slides his fingers along his neck, to the hair at his nape, threading them through it as they stand there. ] You don't let it stop you, though, and you use that knowledge of what it feels like to help those around you who go through the same thing.
[ His other hand moves, and Akaashi curls his long fingers over one of Bokuto's fists, squeezing tightly. ] There's no one else who could compare to you, or that big heart of yours, not in my mind.
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:c
it almost makes him sick.
not necessarily the act of it, but the idea that he doesn’t even know what he’s doing. doesn’t know enough about where he stands and what he is supposed to do that he just feels lost. he is not ace material, not any more, not for a college team - but when you take that away from him, take that out of him, what is left?
akaashi’s hands feel nice, and bokuto can feel the tension he’d been harboring over these last few days ease away. he’d always known akaashi’s hands had magic in them, something above and beyond just a normal setter, but maybe that’s just bokuto. maybe that’s just him, clinging to a time that had been good. a him he’d liked.
his eyes close as he enjoys the press of akaashi’s thumbs into his temples, enjoys how soft akaashi’s voice is when he speaks. never mind that he doesn’t quite understand, at first, what he’s saying. not until he hears i’m not going back and a kind of panic shoots through him. but what about school? what about volleyball? bokuto tenses at the idea but then feels akaashi move, looks up to see those eyes staring back at him. ]
Akaashi, you can't. Volleyball practices-
[ my ace echoes a little, and bokuto stares. my ace he said, the captain of fukurodani. the smartest, most loyal, depending, talented setter they’ve ever had. he looks down at bokuto without pulling his hands away and that’s probable for the best - he’s not sure what he’d do without the contact.
as it stands, the contact itself isn’t much help, but akaashi says my ace and bokuto’s face tightens, just before the creases of his eyes start to water. like a dam cracking open, bokuto feels everything bubble. higher and higher, and right over the edge. he reaches out and grabs at the sides of akaashi’s shirt, leans forward to tuck his head into akaashi’s shoulder, and sobs. ]
MY OWL BABY
Though he hopes it won't be long, he's prepared to use every single sick day he has available at Fukurodani to do what needs to be done.
So he stands there in Bokuto's doorway, not daring to look away from him, not even thinking to take his hands away. Instead he keeps touching him, his eyebrows slowly raising as he starts to protest. Many people think that he's not particularly expressive, and he supposes that's true. He's far more stoic than most people, but it's always been a special skill of his ace's, the ability to make him feel and emote far more than he's ever done before. Now, it's a different sort of seriousness on his face - a determination he usually saves for volleyball, channeled and focused to Bokuto. ]
Practice does not mean more to me than you do.
[ And then, it all comes crashing down like a wave.
But Akaashi takes it, adjusting his touch as Bokuto tucks his head against him. He moves to slip his arms around him, stretching out so that he can wrap him up in them completely. One hand settles on the back of his head, stroking through his hair. The other fists in the back of his shirt, between his shoulders. For a moment, he has to close his eyes, biting his lips again as he tries to fight back the burn he can feel in the back of his own throat at the knowledge, the feeling, of Bokuto's tears.
His voice drops to a gentle murmur, as he tucks his nose against his temple. ] You are the most important thing in my life, Bokuto-san. You will always come first, no matter what has happened or where we are.
hoots sadly :c
now? he doesn't know anything. he doesn't even know if he's still on the team, still in school. he doesn't know what day it is or time or anything. he doesn't know who he is or why he's here and he doesn't know why akaashi is here either.
why he's bothering.
he doesn't know what does it - if it's the my ace or mean to me but bokuto cracks, buckles, and he feels it all crash down over him. he tucks into akaashi despite how he has to lean over a little more than he used to, holding onto akaashi's shirt as he shakes with it. he sobs, and then quiets, tears staining the fabric on akaashi's shoulder. this is embarrasing, more embarrassing than he can even handle, but akaashi doesn't tense up and he doesn't pull away and bokuto doesn't know why he's still fighting. ]
I don't know what I'm doing here... [ it comes out a whisper, wet around his shaky breaths. they're standing in the middle of the doorway of bokuto's one bedroom apartment, his dorm, and anyone could come by and see him and anyone could notice what's happening, but bokuto doesn't care. can't care.
not when it takes all of his effort just to keep standing in the first place. ]
holds forever
It's heartbreaking. ]
That's okay. [ Voice still a murmur, he curls his fingers around the back of Bokuto's neck, giving him a gentle squeeze. If everything could just be like it was, before Bokuto graduated, then he'd do everything he possibly could to make it so. But there was nothing to do then, and there's not much to do now. ] That's okay, we'll figure it out.
[ Carefully, as he loosens his fist from Bokuto's shirt and moves down to palm his hip, Akaashi guides them back into the room. This is a familiar dance, in a way. Realize the problem, give Bokuto time to decompress, and then work through the problem until he's bolstered up to his usual self again. But this time, he takes a far more hands-on approach to it, refusing to let go of him for even a moment.
Easy enough, in the end. He kicks the door closed behind him, allowing the room and them to descend into darkness. Maybe it hasn't been good, for the past week or so Bokuto has been like this, but he was alone then. Being isolated has never helped him. But now, now he won't be alone, no matter what that means. ]
good c:
akaashi says that's okay and he knows it's not, it never is. he doesn't want to be like this and he doesn't want to be this useless and he doesn't, above all else, want to burden akaashi with it. but the squeeze at the back of his neck is comforting, the warm spread of akaashi's hand on his hip. he doesn't let go of the anchor hold he has on akaashi's jacket and he won't give up where his face is pressed into his neck, but like always, akaashi knows that.
we'll figure it out he says, walking bokuto backwards. he walks with him, lets akaashi dictate and guide, as the next breath he takes is accompanied by a soft whine. figure what out? how worthless he is as a player? how it is he became an ace in the first place? there's nothing to figure and no reason it should be we, and that's all there is to it.
they make it back to the room, and the door closes, and everything - once again - is darkness. bokuto knows this place, understands this feeling, has been exactly here for days - and yet, now, with akaashi here, he is embarrassed. steps closer up against him like he's scared. he hates this, hates this so much, and now akaashi can tell. ]
I'm sorry. [ is what he whispers next, his body shaking with each breath. ] This is so pathetic and stupid, I'm sorry...
whoop there it is
Maybe it would better show him just how much his setter cares.
Letting his eyes adjust to the darkness, he strokes long fingers along the curve of his neck. If this is how he's been living for the past week or so, then it isn't much of a shock that he's hit such a low point. But it's true, in the end. Akaashi means every word he says, and now that he's here he has no intention of going anywhere. Practice doesn't matter, school can wait. His parents' inevitable disapproval is nothing to him. And though he came here with just the clothes on his back, he doesn't care. Bokuto needed him, so here he is. ]
This, and you, are not pathetic. Or stupid. [ After standing like that for a long moment, he bows his head, turning it just enough that he won't be completely tucked into Bokuto's shoulder. He has to hear him, after all. ] You have never been either of these things, and I know this as a fact. If you were, then you would not have had the admiration and respect of everyone on Fukurodani. You would not have been our ace. These people, here, they don't understand you yet. But they will, and maybe they'll come to love you just as much as I do.
[ That is when Akaashi turns, burying his nose against Bokuto's shoulder, cupping the back of his head as he mumbles: ] But that would be very difficult to match, considering.
WHOOP THERE IT IS
and it’s still a shaky breath, and his body still shudders with the force of it, but it does get easier. slowly, with each passing moment, because akaashi hasn’t turned and left him yet. akaashi hasn’t gone rigid where he’s holding him. akaashi could, just as easily, turn and leave bokuto to the darkness of his room.
but he doesn’t, and bokuto could cry in relief.
instead what he does is calm down, slowing his breathing and his quiet sobs. the hand at the back of his neck is comforting, the smell of akaashi around is comforting, and for the first time in days bokuto can actually feel that part of him start to relax. he almost doesn’t want to, though, if only because then he will have to face all of this - how he can’t even handle practice anymore, how he can’t handle anything, but then akaashi starts to talk again and bokuto pulls himself out of his head.
he wants to pull back and look at him, something in his voice clueing bokuto in to the fact this is a little different, but he doesn’t want to pull away. doesn’t think he can. so instead, he just quiets his breathing even more, calms the rest of himself down just so he doesn’t miss anything akaashi is saying.
which, really, is a good idea - because akaashi says things that not only does bokuto want, need, to hear - there’s something else. because there’s his team, there’s akaashi, there’s fukurodani - and then there’s that last comment, the one that bokuto is fairly sure stops his heart. not because he’s been waiting to hear it, not because it’s what’s been giving him problem since the beginning, but because he’s…not sure he heard that right at all. ]
Aka- [ his voice still shakes, though, and bokuto pulls akaashi closer to him. pulls his face away despite how damp it feels, how clammy. he opens his eyes but can’t bring them away from the front of akaashi’s chest, his collar bone, as he hovers. ] Akaashi what… what are you saying?
bye
And then, there was color in his life.
It's why he fights so much to help Bokuto, to make sure the color stays in his life. To make sure that he stays as vibrant as the first day that they met one another. Maybe it seems tiring, to people who don't understand, but he gets it. He just gets Bokuto. He knows that he's boisterous and confident in spades, but it hides something else, something more, insecurities and a threat of depression. Despite the fact that he's so big, both physically and in presence, he knows that his ace is genuine and kind-hearted and maybe a little delicate at times.
So he handles him with a gentle touch, continues to stroke his neck, comb his fingers through his hair. Even when the words make their way out of his mouth, voice steady but nerves suddenly building up in his gut, he continues to try and support Bokuto in this dark place that he's been in, that they're standing together in now. Because even if he's not afraid of what his reaction might be, he can't stop the feeling from building in him.
Akaashi keeps his gaze down, as well, his hand slipping away from the back of his neck to the side. Though he should probably draw back, he just - he can't even consider it, really. He needs to keep touching Bokuto, to make sure that he's okay, even though it keeps them so very close for this. He takes a deep breath, before he sighs it out softly and shifts, going to rest their cheeks together. ]
I'm saying... [ Now that he's said it, it feels like it's both easier and harder to get it out. ] That I've probably been in love with you since the end of my first year at Fukurodani, Bokuto-san.
c:
it's not an active ignorance as an accidental one. because bokuto perceives and picks up on a lot, notices when his team is down and when it needs to be picked back up again. there are shifts to the general sense around him that he can notice and change, but when he looks out at a crowd, he doesn't think wow, i wonder if that person is having a good day, and instead just tries to ride out whichever wave he's caught.
he ends up in sync with some people more than others - kuroo, akaashi, hinata - people who come into his life and fall in step with him. enough so that he can see the way their left foot sways out where his sways in. he noticed that about akaashi, a long time ago - the days when he'd come in with a heavier dip to his shoulders, the practices he would insist on wearing sleeves. just the little things, that bokuto didn't understand, but knew that if he kept closer to akaashi that day, it'd take less time for him to relax.
akaashi is the one out of them who takes care of bokuto the most, always had. bokuto didn't realize how much he really depended on the underclassman until he was gone, and all he was left was the cold darkness of his teammates' backs. akaashi's fingers are warm, where they settle on the back of his neck, and bokuto can breathe. slowly, surely, but he's breathing. he's standing. he created the distance between them because he needed to ask the question, to make sure it was happening, and akaashi closes it again, just like always, inserting himself right into the space that bokuto didn't really want to make.
he closes his eyes, focusing on the warmth of akaashi's cheek on his own, flattening his hands against his chest. he hears the words, hears been in love with you and bokuto tenses. waits to hear the catch, waits to hear the joke, and when he doesn't get it? his hand tightens on akaashi's chest, bunching the fabric. ]
Why? [ his throat is tight, forcing the voice out in cracked and gravely bits. he takes a breath and swallows, tucking his face forward into akaashi's shoulder. ] Why me?
nah
Kenma was the mind of Nekoma. Still is, now, even with Kuroo and Yaku graduated. Bokuto was the heart of Fukurodani, the delicate but enormous heart that beat through all of their chests. And no one was spared, least of all Keiji.
So it was no surprise when he realized his affections, but it just seemed smarter to keep them to himself. It seemed smarter, to focus on their friendship, their synchronized steps, tosses, spikes. Even when he wanted to keep his distance, he could always tell when Bokuto just knew, even if he didn't know what it was about. No one knows Bokuto better than Akaashi does, he thinks, but at the same time he knows the reverse is true. That instinct of Bokuto's has helped him when dealing with people, despite being hit-or-miss a lot of the time.
He's just glad he didn't notice, for the two years that they were on the team together.
His own voice goes a little tight, as he speaks, but he uses his words sincerely. He makes sure that he says them so that Bokuto will understand, because he meant it - no one, nothing, is more important than Bokuto. He liked volleyball, before. He enjoyed playing it, liked it as an outlet and for something that he could do. But Bokuto made it into something more, made it a thing that he wanted to work hard at, to perfect to the best of his capabilities.
Bokuto breathed life into it for him, and brought brighter color into his world. ]
Because you are one of the hardest working people I've ever known, and you care so much about everything, Bokuto-san. You put so much passion into volleyball, into just living, even when you have these lows like this. [ He slides his fingers along his neck, to the hair at his nape, threading them through it as they stand there. ] You don't let it stop you, though, and you use that knowledge of what it feels like to help those around you who go through the same thing.
[ His other hand moves, and Akaashi curls his long fingers over one of Bokuto's fists, squeezing tightly. ] There's no one else who could compare to you, or that big heart of yours, not in my mind.