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.
[ There are days where Kagami thinks back to the first time that he'd challenged Kuroko to a one-on-one match. It makes him laugh, every time, because of just how goddamn awful it was. He'd known that there was something about Kuroko from day one, no matter how much his shadow had slipped under the radar. He's glad that he was so right, because what would have happened, otherwise?
Neither of them would have left the team, he knows this much. But maybe it just would have taken so much longer for them to become what they are, now, when at first he'd wanted nothing to do with Kuroko. Now, they're practically inseparable. It's even getting to the point that Taiga can handle Nigou in small doses, because Kuroko brings the dog with him to his apartment, to their practices, to their outings together. It... helps, a little.
When he was in America, it was always him and Tatsuya. Any chance they had, they would be on the court - even if it was street ball, in worn corners of noisy parks - and they were inseparable. That, though. That was different. Kagami loved, and still loves, him as his brother. Couldn't and can't ever see him as anything beyond family, especially now that he no longer idolizes him so fiercely, so blindly.
Especially not when all he really sees, now, is Kuroko.
They did team practice earlier in the day with everyone else, but it's easy for them to slip away to the court where their first one-on-one had happened. It's even easier to lose track of time there, goofing off, and Kagami only realizes that it's gotten darker, that time has passed at all, when he has to retrieve the basketball from across the asphalt. He's sweaty from exertion, but he feels light, and like he's made of light. As he comes back, dribbling in a lazy crossover, he doesn't hesitate to invade Kuroko's space. Honestly, he doesn't even think about it, just does it on instinct, palming the ball as he does so.
Mostly so he can balance it on top of Kuroko's head, arm dropping onto his shoulders and forearm raised to keep the ball from wobbling away. ]
We should head out and swing by Maji Burger - but you wanna come over?
[ Oftentimes, people will say that graduations are something to be celebrated. Milestones, marks that you have done well and made it through to the goal. While this is, fundamentally, true, Akaashi also felt a sense of dread when Fukurodani Academy held its graduation ceremony. Carrying the responsibility of captain doesn't really bother him all that much, so it's not because of that. He took the mantle with a sort of pride, because of who their captain had been.
But at the same time, sending their captain off had been a struggle for all of them. Their captain, their ace, the one piece that completed their team. For as difficult as Bokuto might seem to others, how troublesome his moodswings, Akaashi and his teammates had figured out how to manage them with an astounding speed. The only other person that he'd seen capable of doing this had been Kuroo, and that was a complex relationship on its own. But Kuroo got a scholarship for another school, wound up on another team again, across the city from Bokuto, and Akaashi feels a sense of dread, almost fears, what the next year is going to bring. He knows without a doubt that he will apply to the school that Bokuto is going to, because he cannot imagine walking down a different path, but that's a year away.
With him captaining the team and Bokuto integrating with his new one, focusing on school, they don't get to see each other in person much despite the both of them still being in Tokyo. It'd be a train ride away, but they're limited with what they can do. So, there are texts, and phone calls, and Skype. And each conversation lasts longer than the last, even going to the point that they fall asleep in the middle of a call together. Keiji never, ever hesitates to keep talking when it's Bokuto that falls asleep first, even if he has school in a few hours. He never hesitates to call him or accept a call or just text him into the night, even though he knows he has to get up in the morning to prepare for practice, for classes. His dorm room, when he's in it, almost always has some trace of Bokuto, even when he's meant to be studying.
Because he's honestly, truly terrified of Bokuto being at university alone.
For a while, the conversations they have just show typical signs of a gently dejected Bokuto. It's a familiar thing, and Akaashi talks him back up with ease, or helps him perk himself up through various means. But he starts seeing the signs, before too long, and it scares him. One Skype call just - he's scared for Bokuto, in a way that he's never felt before. When he was at Fukurodani, he could just walk right to his room in the dorms, or corral him into the gym. It was easy, then.
But now Bokuto is so far away, and in such a state that it's like he hasn't left his room in days.
So that's why Akaashi puts his vice captain in charge of the team, tells his teachers that he's sick while he's walking to the train station, and leaves. It's why Akaashi, usually so composed, pounds his fist on Bokuto's door, practically vibrating out of his skin. ]
[ and the thing was, bokuto had been excited for college. after spending a few months complaining to akaashi about not wanting to graduate and threatening to stay behind a year to keep the new first years in line. he'd only been half-joking, at the point where he didn't even know if he'd get into college let alone find a new set of friends and teammates. but then he'd been scouted, to one of the top volleyball schools in the country, and bokuto's mindset had switched on a dime.
suddenly, all he could talk about was his university career. the fact he's been scouted to be on a university team. he was driving the rest of the team crazy, even he knew it, but even they couldn't blame him. sure he was bummed that kuroo was going to be on the other side of the city after how long they spent talking about being roommates, and yeah he wished the school was closer to fukurodani, but he was going to play volleyball. in college. akaashi would take good care of the team, and the underclassmen had all been practicing very hard. they'd be okay, he reasoned. they would do alright.
and then he was off.
for a while, it was okay. he went to practice, would hang out with the team, there'd be classes and study halls and calls with akaashi. it was already, for that while, and bokuto had started to believe he could really do this. even, at the beginning, when he'd get into his moods. he'd make it through practice and then call akaashi and he'd get better again. it was manageable, it was easy.
and then the moods didn't go away.
but it wasn't even just that. he'd get the swings in practice, mess up something simple and start to drop, but his teammates started to react poorly to it. started to push him out of the line, yell out at him for missing a shot. then he'd start to panic, try and leave - generally, the practices themselves would just spiral. all downhill, all the time. this went on for about three days before he was pulled aside by one of the assistant coaches, a comment along the lines of you're a great player, but everyone here is. if you want to play you're going to have to start acting like a professional player. your setter isn't here any more and then a recommendation to head back to his room and maybe take the next couple of days off to figure some things out.
that was six days ago.
he doesn't realize how much it showed through the last call he had with akaashi. doesn't realize how it shows how little he's slept over the last week. doesn't realize that in those last few days, he hasn't really eaten either. all he can think about are their looks, their comments, what are you doing and how were you fourth in the nation. he lays in his bed and stares at the ceiling and wonders what am i doing and how was i fourth in the nation.
the banging slowly fades into his consciousness, and when it doesn't stop he actually pulls himself to sit up, staring at the door like he's forgotten what it's used for. it's not until he hears a muffled, but familiar voice, does he stand and walk over to it, frowning in confusion as he gets it open. ]
[ At first, when no response comes, Akaashi contemplates going to get the RA. If he spins it in a way that makes it seem like he's one of Bokuto's classmates, maybe he can get some help without raising alarms or casting suspicions on Bokuto. His ace doesn't deserve rumors attached to his name, which would happen if he panicked.
He doesn't think he would do anything, but he also thinks that Bokuto literally wouldn't do anything - he would let his health decline without even meaning to. So he has to catch it, catch Bokuto, now.
But Bokuto opens the door, and Akaashi feels his chest constricting.
His fingers twitch, hand still raised from pounding on the door, and he can't help it. He raises it higher, touching Bokuto's arm, his shoulder, his neck, until he can touch his face. Bokuto looks so tired, like he's lost all of his energy, and it's so much worse in person. He had thought that Skype just made him look grey, but here he is, drained of his exuberance.
When Bokuto threatened to fail, so that he would be held back a year, Akaashi had been livid. He had sat Bokuto down and lectured him in a tranquil fury, about his future and what it meant, until he had ended with a reminder of how much he would excel in college, on a college team, one well-known nationwide for volleyball. And once Akaashi graduated Fukurodani, Bokuto would have to show him the ropes again when he joined the team, the same as he had done the first time.
After he had set Bokuto straight, and after Bokuto had actually gotten excited about graduating, about the college team, things had seemed better. Hell, for the most part, the start of the semester had seemed to be going spectacularly for both of them. And Akaashi had told Bokuto just how proud he was of him, once they seemed clear of that hurdle. Then, and now with every call. Every text. It's what he says instead of the other feeling that Bokuto instills in him, has instilled in him for what feels like forever. But for as much as he doesn't fear rejection - the feeling is unconditional, wouldn't change no matter how Bokuto responded - he still worries, that maybe it would be a distraction for him.
He thinks to himself maybe you should've told him sooner, Keiji. After all, this terrifies him more than anything else could. ]
I came for you, Bokuto-san. What haven't you been telling me? [ Akaashi's eyes flick across his face, scanning, searching, his brow furrowed and concern blatant on his usually calm face. And then he raises his other hand, cupping his cheeks so that he can brush his thumbs under those tired eyes. ] What happened? Are you okay?
[ he hadn't been planning on affecting his health and schedule no negatively. originally, he'd figured he'd go home and take a day off like the coach recommended, and then he'd be back. just like always, he'd bounce back. but then four days went by, five days. he doesn't remember the last time he ate, and he knows he showed a day ago because he did it to pass the time, but he can't remember how long, why. his room has been dark for days, and that probably has a lot to do with it too, but bokuto just can't seem to put two and two together.
and then akaashi is there, standing outside his door, and bokuto feels vulnerable and open and broken, all at once.
his eyes are wide, looking over at his setter (his old setter, his previous setter) like he can't believe he's there. like this has to be a dream, somehow, even if he's not sleeping. maybe he's hallucinating, like kuroo used to talk about when people did drugs. maybe, soon, bokuto would see flowers sprout out of akaashi's hair, animals flying through the air. but he stands, and he stares, and akaashi's hand lifts from where he must have been against the door to bokuto's arm, and the touch has him shuddering - goosebumps racing out across his skin.
he's so warm, and he keeps touching him, so it must be real. even if bokuto can't bring himself to move, to barely breathe, akaashi's hand is solid and real. he's here. bokuto feels himself start to shake, subtly, as akaashi's fingers trail up to his face.
this is embarrassing, he's an upper classmen, he was akaashi's captain. he should have pulled himself together so long ago, should have jumped back into practice like none of this bothered him, but all bokuto can do is stand there and let akaashi see everything. everything he's done wrong, every mistake he's made in practice, every time the coach would yell or his teammates would comment and every time he let them down.
all he wants to do is curl back under his bed. close the door and tell akaashi he can come back tomorrow, another day, any other day.
but at the same time, he can't help the way his head falls into akaashi's hand, tilts into the touch, as his eyes fall closed. the comfort is nicer than he thought possible, and he wants to ease himself back into it. but he freezes at the question, opening his eyes but avoiding akaashi's gaze. then there's the other hand on his other cheek, and bokuto's hands lift to cup them over akaashi's. the hands he's been in love with since akaashi showed up, a scrawny first year. since he hit that first straight spike. ]
Yeah. [ he's still not looking at him, still curled over a bit. his voice is still low, still a bit quiet. ] Yeah, I'm fine. I mean- I'll be okay.
[ If Bokuto did not look the way he did - defeated, unstyled, exhausted - then perhaps he'd be able to get away with it. But even if he did look like his usual self, Akaashi doesn't miss the way that he starts to shake the moment that he touches him. It's a fine tremor, but he's so used to being aware of every little detail of Bokuto Koutarou that he can't miss it, especially not now.
And it breaks his heart, just as much as it makes him angry.
Bokuto is an ace, one that climbed his way to the top of the country. Maybe he missed the top three, but that doesn't change the fact that he made it there, and is still fighting to get better, to stand at the top of the world. If the people that surround Bokuto now don't understand that, in the face of his moods, then they don't deserve him. They don't deserve his strength and abilities, and they certainly don't deserve the big, delicate heart that makes him who he is.
Fukurodani understood him, and what he needed. Akaashi understands him, and what he needs. This powerhouse doesn't need to be coddled on the court, he just needs people to balance him, no matter if he's fired up or if he's lost motivation.
I'm fine, he says. I'll be okay. Akaashi curls his lips in, almost bites down on them, before he smooths his hands back a little further. He cradles Bokuto's jaw in his worn palms, threading his fingers into his hair, and it's almost an unconscious gesture when he strokes his thumbs along his temples. But with the way Bokuto is curled over, it makes him seem so small - he may only be a couple centimeters taller than Akaashi, but he's always been bigger, built stronger and with a much louder presence - and all he really wants to do is hold him. ]
You will be. [ He agrees softly, resolutely still looking at his face, despite the fact that he won't meet his eyes. ] And until you are, I'm not going back.
[ Before any protest can come out, before Bokuto can try to brush it off, or shrug and say he's fine again, Akaashi takes a step closer to him. Without waiting for an answer, he angles his head in to meet his gaze, even and sincere, his hands never leaving his face. Though he would never coddle Bokuto on the court, he knows that he needs the contact off of it. Knows that it helps. ]
Because you will always be my ace, and I will never leave you to face this alone.
[ 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.
( kuroko lives for these moments. he loves practicing with the team as a whole, but his favorite thing to do is just one-on-one with kagami. they've both learned so much in the last year, from the team, from the tournaments, but more importantly, from each other. the balance they form is one unrivaled by any players, past or present. they are a unit. they move together as one. they can spend hours with one another and never get bored, hours with one another and not even notice that time is moving because they're both just so happy. kuroko is happy. sometimes it's overwhelming. and, god... god, he thinks...
it's so much more than just basketball. but he's not sure he'll ever be able to say that out loud. and that's okay. he's happy with what they do have. he's happy just like this. with a ball on his head, with an elbow on his shoulder, being a human kickstand for a giant human thing that needs a kickstand. he shifts his head slightly to look up at the tree red boy. )
Sure. ( . . . ) Can Nigou come, or should we drop him off at my house first?
[ Adjusting his hold on the ball as Kuroko angles his head up, Kagami has the horrible moment of thinking how adorable he is like that. The thought has him almost fumbling the basketball, but he manages not to drop it or knock it off of the top of his fluffy blue hair as he shifts a little. These are thoughts one should not have about your teammates or your best friends, but they're...
Well, they've always been something else. If they weren't, the days they spend together probably wouldn't feel the way they do, leave them like this.
He makes a bit of a face at the question, a thoughtful scrunch of his nose before he lets out an eh and shrugs his further shoulder. Because it's gotten better, the relationship he has with Nigou. He can't be around other dogs, but with the miniature shadow, he's made progress. ] He can come. I, uh. I got a dog bed for him, to put under the coffee table where he hangs out.
( when ogiwara came to the final game of the winter cup, kuroko cried. kagami's only response was "that's him?". he felt his heart sink to the pit of his stomach. there he was, on the court with the light - the true light - to his shadow... the person who stole his heart, one little piece at a time. one midnight one-on-one at a time... but ogiwara had it first. and ogiwara... well. kuroko stood on the court, tears on his cheeks out of happiness to hear ogiwara's voice cheering him on; kagami's voice brought him back down. kuroko could tell, though. he could tell that kagami was jealous of ogiwara. and the way kuroko's chest tightened when ogiwara spoke... well. it lights a fire. a different one than ogiwara's; just as bright, just as hot, but different. that's when he's sure.
after practice a couple of weeks later, kuroko pulls kagami aside and asks him if they can walk home together. kagami, as usual, says yes. it's going to be a very long walk, and possibly have a great number of stops. but there are things even the light in his life doesn't really know about him. kuroko doesn't talk that much about his feelings when they aren't related to basketball. he doesn't tell that many stories about his past. he's pretty stoic, all things considered. he has a lot of emotions, but he channels them very well. he keeps them in check, and he only lets them out on the court, when his team needs him to. it's a very well-tempered reserve of feelings. but this is something he feels kagami both needs, and deserves, to know.
when they're a decent distance away from school, away from the crowds of other students and their teammates, he stops. kuroko doesn't say anything about stopping. he just does, and he sits on a wall that lines the sidewalk, trees planted along it. he sighs. this is going to be a difficult conversation, he thinks. no matter how comfortable he is with kagami, this is something he's never spoken about to anyone but kise - and the only reason he talked to kise at all was to give a brief explanation of some of the origin of the passionate way he approaches his sport. kise doesn't even know the half of it.
there's a hard, dry lump in his throat, a knot in his stomach, and his chest feels tight. breathing seems so much more difficult now than it ever has. but he knows kagami will listen in earnest... but it might hurt him. and that terrifies kuroko more than anything. he's also scared to open himself up to feeling that vulnerable. he never doubts that kagami would be right there by his side to help him through, but kuroko's not sure he wants to create the avenue for kagami to dislike someone who's been so influential in his life... someone who is so important to him, and who is such an important part of his history. and if he knows kagami... he takes a breath in slowly, and exhales. relax. conceal don't feel don't let them knooooooooow... )
[ When he really thinks about it, Kagami figures he doesn't have much of a right to be jealous. He understands the core reason of why he's jealous, he does. And he realizes that it's not... necessarily fair, because he has Tatsuya, that was the reason for his passion, his drive, for him even playing basketball. It's the reason why he even joined the basketball club, why he even met Kuroko. But it's also all in the past, for the both of them.
But he also knows that he's jealous for more than Ogiwara being the origin of Kuroko's story.
It's fairly hard to manage the emotions in him, because Kagami is fairly simple in the grand scheme of things, but he does it. For the sake of not losing Kuroko, for not losing his other half, the person that doesn't necessarily complete him, but rather balances him. As if he had been set on the scales, and was left there to wait until Kuroko Tetsuya entered his life, the perfect weight, his shadow. And, now, he can hardly imagine a world without him in it. So, he can't do anything to risk it, not when he would be positively fucking lost if Kuroko just... left.
This, unfortunately, is a reoccurring nightmare for him, one that he hates thinking about because of how desperate and stupid it makes him feel when he thinks about it. Which results in him pushing it down, just like these stupid, stupid feelings he harbors for Kuroko.
The inevitable happens, though. Kuroko is not one to leave things be, and Kagami is about as obvious as possible. He wears his emotions on his sleeve, because that's all he knows. He puts his all into everything, not just basketball, and if anyone were to notice... well, Kuroko would. They've learned everything about one another, and even if he tries to act like everything is normal he knows that with one look Kuroko can read him.
But the same can be said of light to shadow.
As he stops, Taiga does as well. Off the court, their sync is more than a little ridiculous, so long as Kuroko hasn't gone and snuck up on him. This time, though, he's so hyperfocused on him because of his behavior that he can feel his chest constricting, concern and worry and dread all rolled into one. But he still moves to drop down next to Kuroko, so close he could almost touch him with just the slightest shift to the side. ]
( a bomb will drop at some point during this conversation. kuroko can see it coming. he can feel it coming. and he'll be in the same situation as he was before, all over again. he knows kagami probably doesn't even like guys... ogiwara doesn't. not many of the athletic guys he knows do. there's kise, but kise is kise. he, and kuroko, are kind of the exception to the rule. he keeps it a secret, most of the time. the possibility of reward is so slim that he almost feels like the risk isn't worth it. he could lose kagami forever. he could lose everything. but...
he bunches his hands into fists and stares at his lap. he even leans a little bit away from kagami. if he touches him now, kuroko might just break and become a wild, uncontrolled flood. his eyes close for a moment. the tone in kagami's voice is dangerous. everything right now is dangerous. )
I've never told anyone before. ( . . . ) Please promise you won't storm off.
[ Despite what people might think about Kagami, he's not exactly oblivious to everything. Maybe he's blunt, but he's never seen a point of mincing words. It hasn't made him many friends in the past, but he has Seirin now, he has Tatsuya as his brother again, he's had Alex and his dad. He's had Kuroko. He doesn't care, so long as that doesn't ever change.
The problem is, this barely kept secret could very well change that. (Japan is so different from the States, he'd grown up not even thinking that these kind of feelings should be strange. But the moment that he'd come back to his birth country, it was like being slapped in the face.)
Him becoming like the Generation of Miracles, the one that had abandoned teamwork, could very well change that. (A thing that nearly happened, a near miss, a constant threat looming on the horizon.)
Kuroko realizing that he can do so much better could change that. (A reality, because Kuroko can, Aomine proves that there's at least one light out there that shines just as brightly.)
He notices Kuroko moving away, and clenches his fists before he shifts. His legs come up, and he folds his arms on top of them, resting his cheek against the bicep closest to Kuroko so that he's looking in the opposite direction. After all, maybe that will make this easier. Everything about him is tense, but unlike the predatory sense that leaves him prepared to leap like a spring released, it's a nervous energy that thrums through his entire body. ]
[it finally got to the point where sousuke felt bad for actually making ukai sleep on the couch. okay no, he didn't really force the other to sleep there. he just opted to sleep there, mentioning something or another about his bad shoulder and how it wasn't really fair for him to sleep on the couch with his bum shoulder. it had been nice the first couple of weeks. but it started making him... feel guilty after a while.
especially with how the other kept having to crack his neck and back every now and then throughout the day. so tonight he was going to stand his ground and actually urge the other to take the bed, and that he wasn't going to break if he had to sleep on the couch for a week. he hated it whenever rin acted that way with him, so really. it was only a matter of time before it started to wear on sousuke's nerves here.]
[ 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.
[ he gets the phone call one winter morning. apparently his car swerved on the ice and went off the overpass, the metal death trap falling onto the mostly-empty highway below at around three in the morning. there was a girl with him, a colleague of his from work - no connections to the family, aikazawa was emphasizing this over and over to the family gathering amidst a sea of red eyes brimming with tears - but all the same, reparations to the girl's family have to be seen in private. this was not an accident, this family isn't going to treat it as such, not when tensions against shiratorizawa's bulls were running at an all-time high and those who are part of karasuno's brotherhood are being picked on by the seijou in their own turf and with uneasy alliances with those cats in tokyo. you can't really trust anyone nowadays, even if the owls are working their damndest to be the go-between for the crows and the cats.
that was about all the information kei manages to take in before he lets his mind wander at what aikazawa's reporting to them. he hasn't slept yet, he barely even ate. yamaguchi tries to remind him but he eventually .... just .... forgets, fingers on his left hand tapping the edge of his seat in a staccato beat as he reads through the report and memorizes the names and then -
a funeral had to be arranged, and kei sets aside the police reports they've cobbled from various sources and crows and he begins to vaguely act like a human being again by getting himself involved in the process of planning for his brother's funeral as well as the security during the event. work was mechanical and it's not the first time he's planned a funeral for a crow, but it is the first time that he has to plan for a brother and he feels numb. a bit like he'd been left out in the winter to thaw and chill again, over and over, except that there is no end to this winter and a dangerous cold blankets his mind, drowning out the noise, slipping into the cracks of his spine and reaching into his lungs as he lists the name of his brother and the cause of death as an accident while every bit of his soul screams for something bloody and heavy as lead.
the funeral was sunday morning and kei was there in the front row with his lips pressed together in a thin line, fingers pale and cold as they drummed the same beat over his knee as he listens to tanaka about what his family has promised with regards to security and a general run-down of who's coming, again. he's had nothing all day but water and coffee and maybe a few illicit cigarettes that his brother never approved of when he was alive, but now he's dead and no-one's here to scold him so maybe akiteru can choke on his regret while he runs over a rolodex of names and grudges and locations full of hate inside of his brain. there is a body in a wooden box in front of him that shouldn't be there, and yet is, and this impossibility is jarring his reality, his normally calm personality, into something volatile.
and then, slowly, the visitors slither into the marble halls of the parlour in black, their scales and fangs set aside while they respectfully array themselves around the crows. kei dusts off his immaculate trousers for the want of doing something interesting other than gnashing his teeth, and keeps a straight face and an even tone to receive everyone's condolences. ]
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hoot hoot motherfucker
hi musashi c:
captainnnn
casually moves these over here
shipverse.
finally taps out response
Neither of them would have left the team, he knows this much. But maybe it just would have taken so much longer for them to become what they are, now, when at first he'd wanted nothing to do with Kuroko. Now, they're practically inseparable. It's even getting to the point that Taiga can handle Nigou in small doses, because Kuroko brings the dog with him to his apartment, to their practices, to their outings together. It... helps, a little.
When he was in America, it was always him and Tatsuya. Any chance they had, they would be on the court - even if it was street ball, in worn corners of noisy parks - and they were inseparable. That, though. That was different. Kagami loved, and still loves, him as his brother. Couldn't and can't ever see him as anything beyond family, especially now that he no longer idolizes him so fiercely, so blindly.
Especially not when all he really sees, now, is Kuroko.
They did team practice earlier in the day with everyone else, but it's easy for them to slip away to the court where their first one-on-one had happened. It's even easier to lose track of time there, goofing off, and Kagami only realizes that it's gotten darker, that time has passed at all, when he has to retrieve the basketball from across the asphalt. He's sweaty from exertion, but he feels light, and like he's made of light. As he comes back, dribbling in a lazy crossover, he doesn't hesitate to invade Kuroko's space. Honestly, he doesn't even think about it, just does it on instinct, palming the ball as he does so.
Mostly so he can balance it on top of Kuroko's head, arm dropping onto his shoulders and forearm raised to keep the ball from wobbling away. ]
We should head out and swing by Maji Burger - but you wanna come over?
gentle hoot
But at the same time, sending their captain off had been a struggle for all of them. Their captain, their ace, the one piece that completed their team. For as difficult as Bokuto might seem to others, how troublesome his moodswings, Akaashi and his teammates had figured out how to manage them with an astounding speed. The only other person that he'd seen capable of doing this had been Kuroo, and that was a complex relationship on its own. But Kuroo got a scholarship for another school, wound up on another team again, across the city from Bokuto, and Akaashi feels a sense of dread, almost fears, what the next year is going to bring. He knows without a doubt that he will apply to the school that Bokuto is going to, because he cannot imagine walking down a different path, but that's a year away.
With him captaining the team and Bokuto integrating with his new one, focusing on school, they don't get to see each other in person much despite the both of them still being in Tokyo. It'd be a train ride away, but they're limited with what they can do. So, there are texts, and phone calls, and Skype. And each conversation lasts longer than the last, even going to the point that they fall asleep in the middle of a call together. Keiji never, ever hesitates to keep talking when it's Bokuto that falls asleep first, even if he has school in a few hours. He never hesitates to call him or accept a call or just text him into the night, even though he knows he has to get up in the morning to prepare for practice, for classes. His dorm room, when he's in it, almost always has some trace of Bokuto, even when he's meant to be studying.
Because he's honestly, truly terrified of Bokuto being at university alone.
For a while, the conversations they have just show typical signs of a gently dejected Bokuto. It's a familiar thing, and Akaashi talks him back up with ease, or helps him perk himself up through various means. But he starts seeing the signs, before too long, and it scares him. One Skype call just - he's scared for Bokuto, in a way that he's never felt before. When he was at Fukurodani, he could just walk right to his room in the dorms, or corral him into the gym. It was easy, then.
But now Bokuto is so far away, and in such a state that it's like he hasn't left his room in days.
So that's why Akaashi puts his vice captain in charge of the team, tells his teachers that he's sick while he's walking to the train station, and leaves. It's why Akaashi, usually so composed, pounds his fist on Bokuto's door, practically vibrating out of his skin. ]
Bokuto-san, open the door.
hoots back c:
suddenly, all he could talk about was his university career. the fact he's been scouted to be on a university team. he was driving the rest of the team crazy, even he knew it, but even they couldn't blame him. sure he was bummed that kuroo was going to be on the other side of the city after how long they spent talking about being roommates, and yeah he wished the school was closer to fukurodani, but he was going to play volleyball. in college. akaashi would take good care of the team, and the underclassmen had all been practicing very hard. they'd be okay, he reasoned. they would do alright.
and then he was off.
for a while, it was okay. he went to practice, would hang out with the team, there'd be classes and study halls and calls with akaashi. it was already, for that while, and bokuto had started to believe he could really do this. even, at the beginning, when he'd get into his moods. he'd make it through practice and then call akaashi and he'd get better again. it was manageable, it was easy.
and then the moods didn't go away.
but it wasn't even just that. he'd get the swings in practice, mess up something simple and start to drop, but his teammates started to react poorly to it. started to push him out of the line, yell out at him for missing a shot. then he'd start to panic, try and leave - generally, the practices themselves would just spiral. all downhill, all the time. this went on for about three days before he was pulled aside by one of the assistant coaches, a comment along the lines of you're a great player, but everyone here is. if you want to play you're going to have to start acting like a professional player. your setter isn't here any more and then a recommendation to head back to his room and maybe take the next couple of days off to figure some things out.
that was six days ago.
he doesn't realize how much it showed through the last call he had with akaashi. doesn't realize how it shows how little he's slept over the last week. doesn't realize that in those last few days, he hasn't really eaten either. all he can think about are their looks, their comments, what are you doing and how were you fourth in the nation. he lays in his bed and stares at the ceiling and wonders what am i doing and how was i fourth in the nation.
the banging slowly fades into his consciousness, and when it doesn't stop he actually pulls himself to sit up, staring at the door like he's forgotten what it's used for. it's not until he hears a muffled, but familiar voice, does he stand and walk over to it, frowning in confusion as he gets it open. ]
Akaashi? What are you doing here?
have sad hoots now
He doesn't think he would do anything, but he also thinks that Bokuto literally wouldn't do anything - he would let his health decline without even meaning to. So he has to catch it, catch Bokuto, now.
But Bokuto opens the door, and Akaashi feels his chest constricting.
His fingers twitch, hand still raised from pounding on the door, and he can't help it. He raises it higher, touching Bokuto's arm, his shoulder, his neck, until he can touch his face. Bokuto looks so tired, like he's lost all of his energy, and it's so much worse in person. He had thought that Skype just made him look grey, but here he is, drained of his exuberance.
When Bokuto threatened to fail, so that he would be held back a year, Akaashi had been livid. He had sat Bokuto down and lectured him in a tranquil fury, about his future and what it meant, until he had ended with a reminder of how much he would excel in college, on a college team, one well-known nationwide for volleyball. And once Akaashi graduated Fukurodani, Bokuto would have to show him the ropes again when he joined the team, the same as he had done the first time.
After he had set Bokuto straight, and after Bokuto had actually gotten excited about graduating, about the college team, things had seemed better. Hell, for the most part, the start of the semester had seemed to be going spectacularly for both of them. And Akaashi had told Bokuto just how proud he was of him, once they seemed clear of that hurdle. Then, and now with every call. Every text. It's what he says instead of the other feeling that Bokuto instills in him, has instilled in him for what feels like forever. But for as much as he doesn't fear rejection - the feeling is unconditional, wouldn't change no matter how Bokuto responded - he still worries, that maybe it would be a distraction for him.
He thinks to himself maybe you should've told him sooner, Keiji. After all, this terrifies him more than anything else could. ]
I came for you, Bokuto-san. What haven't you been telling me? [ Akaashi's eyes flick across his face, scanning, searching, his brow furrowed and concern blatant on his usually calm face. And then he raises his other hand, cupping his cheeks so that he can brush his thumbs under those tired eyes. ] What happened? Are you okay?
hoot :c
and then akaashi is there, standing outside his door, and bokuto feels vulnerable and open and broken, all at once.
his eyes are wide, looking over at his setter (his old setter, his previous setter) like he can't believe he's there. like this has to be a dream, somehow, even if he's not sleeping. maybe he's hallucinating, like kuroo used to talk about when people did drugs. maybe, soon, bokuto would see flowers sprout out of akaashi's hair, animals flying through the air. but he stands, and he stares, and akaashi's hand lifts from where he must have been against the door to bokuto's arm, and the touch has him shuddering - goosebumps racing out across his skin.
he's so warm, and he keeps touching him, so it must be real. even if bokuto can't bring himself to move, to barely breathe, akaashi's hand is solid and real. he's here. bokuto feels himself start to shake, subtly, as akaashi's fingers trail up to his face.
this is embarrassing, he's an upper classmen, he was akaashi's captain. he should have pulled himself together so long ago, should have jumped back into practice like none of this bothered him, but all bokuto can do is stand there and let akaashi see everything. everything he's done wrong, every mistake he's made in practice, every time the coach would yell or his teammates would comment and every time he let them down.
all he wants to do is curl back under his bed. close the door and tell akaashi he can come back tomorrow, another day, any other day.
but at the same time, he can't help the way his head falls into akaashi's hand, tilts into the touch, as his eyes fall closed. the comfort is nicer than he thought possible, and he wants to ease himself back into it. but he freezes at the question, opening his eyes but avoiding akaashi's gaze. then there's the other hand on his other cheek, and bokuto's hands lift to cup them over akaashi's. the hands he's been in love with since akaashi showed up, a scrawny first year. since he hit that first straight spike. ]
Yeah. [ he's still not looking at him, still curled over a bit. his voice is still low, still a bit quiet. ] Yeah, I'm fine. I mean- I'll be okay.
sprawls on this post
"goddamn, hotshot, it's cold as hell!!
8C hoo
And it breaks his heart, just as much as it makes him angry.
Bokuto is an ace, one that climbed his way to the top of the country. Maybe he missed the top three, but that doesn't change the fact that he made it there, and is still fighting to get better, to stand at the top of the world. If the people that surround Bokuto now don't understand that, in the face of his moods, then they don't deserve him. They don't deserve his strength and abilities, and they certainly don't deserve the big, delicate heart that makes him who he is.
Fukurodani understood him, and what he needed. Akaashi understands him, and what he needs. This powerhouse doesn't need to be coddled on the court, he just needs people to balance him, no matter if he's fired up or if he's lost motivation.
I'm fine, he says. I'll be okay. Akaashi curls his lips in, almost bites down on them, before he smooths his hands back a little further. He cradles Bokuto's jaw in his worn palms, threading his fingers into his hair, and it's almost an unconscious gesture when he strokes his thumbs along his temples. But with the way Bokuto is curled over, it makes him seem so small - he may only be a couple centimeters taller than Akaashi, but he's always been bigger, built stronger and with a much louder presence - and all he really wants to do is hold him. ]
You will be. [ He agrees softly, resolutely still looking at his face, despite the fact that he won't meet his eyes. ] And until you are, I'm not going back.
[ Before any protest can come out, before Bokuto can try to brush it off, or shrug and say he's fine again, Akaashi takes a step closer to him. Without waiting for an answer, he angles his head in to meet his gaze, even and sincere, his hands never leaving his face. Though he would never coddle Bokuto on the court, he knows that he needs the contact off of it. Knows that it helps. ]
Because you will always be my ace, and I will never leave you to face this alone.
: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.
cries about it.
it's so much more than just basketball. but he's not sure he'll ever be able to say that out loud. and that's okay. he's happy with what they do have. he's happy just like this. with a ball on his head, with an elbow on his shoulder, being a human kickstand for a giant human thing that needs a kickstand. he shifts his head slightly to look up at the
treered boy. )Sure. ( . . . ) Can Nigou come, or should we drop him off at my house first?
laughs forever tbh
Well, they've always been something else. If they weren't, the days they spend together probably wouldn't feel the way they do, leave them like this.
He makes a bit of a face at the question, a thoughtful scrunch of his nose before he lets out an eh and shrugs his further shoulder. Because it's gotten better, the relationship he has with Nigou. He can't be around other dogs, but with the miniature shadow, he's made progress. ] He can come. I, uh. I got a dog bed for him, to put under the coffee table where he hangs out.
birthday sex.
no subject
after practice a couple of weeks later, kuroko pulls kagami aside and asks him if they can walk home together. kagami, as usual, says yes. it's going to be a very long walk, and possibly have a great number of stops. but there are things even the light in his life doesn't really know about him. kuroko doesn't talk that much about his feelings when they aren't related to basketball. he doesn't tell that many stories about his past. he's pretty stoic, all things considered. he has a lot of emotions, but he channels them very well. he keeps them in check, and he only lets them out on the court, when his team needs him to. it's a very well-tempered reserve of feelings. but this is something he feels kagami both needs, and deserves, to know.
when they're a decent distance away from school, away from the crowds of other students and their teammates, he stops. kuroko doesn't say anything about stopping. he just does, and he sits on a wall that lines the sidewalk, trees planted along it. he sighs. this is going to be a difficult conversation, he thinks. no matter how comfortable he is with kagami, this is something he's never spoken about to anyone but kise - and the only reason he talked to kise at all was to give a brief explanation of some of the origin of the passionate way he approaches his sport. kise doesn't even know the half of it.
there's a hard, dry lump in his throat, a knot in his stomach, and his chest feels tight. breathing seems so much more difficult now than it ever has. but he knows kagami will listen in earnest... but it might hurt him. and that terrifies kuroko more than anything. he's also scared to open himself up to feeling that vulnerable. he never doubts that kagami would be right there by his side to help him through, but kuroko's not sure he wants to create the avenue for kagami to dislike someone who's been so influential in his life... someone who is so important to him, and who is such an important part of his history. and if he knows kagami... he takes a breath in slowly, and exhales. relax.
conceal don't feel don't let them knooooooooow...)... Kagami-kun.
no subject
But he also knows that he's jealous for more than Ogiwara being the origin of Kuroko's story.
It's fairly hard to manage the emotions in him, because Kagami is fairly simple in the grand scheme of things, but he does it. For the sake of not losing Kuroko, for not losing his other half, the person that doesn't necessarily complete him, but rather balances him. As if he had been set on the scales, and was left there to wait until Kuroko Tetsuya entered his life, the perfect weight, his shadow. And, now, he can hardly imagine a world without him in it. So, he can't do anything to risk it, not when he would be positively fucking lost if Kuroko just... left.
This, unfortunately, is a reoccurring nightmare for him, one that he hates thinking about because of how desperate and stupid it makes him feel when he thinks about it. Which results in him pushing it down, just like these stupid, stupid feelings he harbors for Kuroko.
The inevitable happens, though. Kuroko is not one to leave things be, and Kagami is about as obvious as possible. He wears his emotions on his sleeve, because that's all he knows. He puts his all into everything, not just basketball, and if anyone were to notice... well, Kuroko would. They've learned everything about one another, and even if he tries to act like everything is normal he knows that with one look Kuroko can read him.
But the same can be said of light to shadow.
As he stops, Taiga does as well. Off the court, their sync is more than a little ridiculous, so long as Kuroko hasn't gone and snuck up on him. This time, though, he's so hyperfocused on him because of his behavior that he can feel his chest constricting, concern and worry and dread all rolled into one. But he still moves to drop down next to Kuroko, so close he could almost touch him with just the slightest shift to the side. ]
Yeah.
no subject
he bunches his hands into fists and stares at his lap. he even leans a little bit away from kagami. if he touches him now, kuroko might just break and become a wild, uncontrolled flood. his eyes close for a moment. the tone in kagami's voice is dangerous. everything right now is dangerous. )
I've never told anyone before. ( . . . ) Please promise you won't storm off.
no subject
The problem is, this barely kept secret could very well change that. (Japan is so different from the States, he'd grown up not even thinking that these kind of feelings should be strange. But the moment that he'd come back to his birth country, it was like being slapped in the face.)
Him becoming like the Generation of Miracles, the one that had abandoned teamwork, could very well change that. (A thing that nearly happened, a near miss, a constant threat looming on the horizon.)
Kuroko realizing that he can do so much better could change that. (A reality, because Kuroko can, Aomine proves that there's at least one light out there that shines just as brightly.)
He notices Kuroko moving away, and clenches his fists before he shifts. His legs come up, and he folds his arms on top of them, resting his cheek against the bicep closest to Kuroko so that he's looking in the opposite direction. After all, maybe that will make this easier. Everything about him is tense, but unlike the predatory sense that leaves him prepared to leap like a spring released, it's a nervous energy that thrums through his entire body. ]
I promise I won't go anywhere. [ Now. Ever. ]
winkwonk
[it finally got to the point where sousuke felt bad for actually making ukai sleep on the couch. okay no, he didn't really force the other to sleep there. he just opted to sleep there, mentioning something or another about his bad shoulder and how it wasn't really fair for him to sleep on the couch with his bum shoulder. it had been nice the first couple of weeks. but it started making him... feel guilty after a while.
especially with how the other kept having to crack his neck and back every now and then throughout the day. so tonight he was going to stand his ground and actually urge the other to take the bed, and that he wasn't going to break if he had to sleep on the couch for a week. he hated it whenever rin acted that way with him, so really. it was only a matter of time before it started to wear on sousuke's nerves here.]
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.
hail satan
[ he gets the phone call one winter morning. apparently his car swerved on the ice and went off the overpass, the metal death trap falling onto the mostly-empty highway below at around three in the morning. there was a girl with him, a colleague of his from work - no connections to the family, aikazawa was emphasizing this over and over to the family gathering amidst a sea of red eyes brimming with tears - but all the same, reparations to the girl's family have to be seen in private. this was not an accident, this family isn't going to treat it as such, not when tensions against shiratorizawa's bulls were running at an all-time high and those who are part of karasuno's brotherhood are being picked on by the seijou in their own turf and with uneasy alliances with those cats in tokyo. you can't really trust anyone nowadays, even if the owls are working their damndest to be the go-between for the crows and the cats.
that was about all the information kei manages to take in before he lets his mind wander at what aikazawa's reporting to them. he hasn't slept yet, he barely even ate. yamaguchi tries to remind him but he eventually .... just .... forgets, fingers on his left hand tapping the edge of his seat in a staccato beat as he reads through the report and memorizes the names and then -
a funeral had to be arranged, and kei sets aside the police reports they've cobbled from various sources and crows and he begins to vaguely act like a human being again by getting himself involved in the process of planning for his brother's funeral as well as the security during the event. work was mechanical and it's not the first time he's planned a funeral for a crow, but it is the first time that he has to plan for a brother and he feels numb. a bit like he'd been left out in the winter to thaw and chill again, over and over, except that there is no end to this winter and a dangerous cold blankets his mind, drowning out the noise, slipping into the cracks of his spine and reaching into his lungs as he lists the name of his brother and the cause of death as an accident while every bit of his soul screams for something bloody and heavy as lead.
the funeral was sunday morning and kei was there in the front row with his lips pressed together in a thin line, fingers pale and cold as they drummed the same beat over his knee as he listens to tanaka about what his family has promised with regards to security and a general run-down of who's coming, again. he's had nothing all day but water and coffee and maybe a few illicit cigarettes that his brother never approved of when he was alive, but now he's dead and no-one's here to scold him so maybe akiteru can choke on his regret while he runs over a rolodex of names and grudges and locations full of hate inside of his brain. there is a body in a wooden box in front of him that shouldn't be there, and yet is, and this impossibility is jarring his reality, his normally calm personality, into something volatile.
and then, slowly, the visitors slither into the marble halls of the parlour in black, their scales and fangs set aside while they respectfully array themselves around the crows. kei dusts off his immaculate trousers for the want of doing something interesting other than gnashing his teeth, and keeps a straight face and an even tone to receive everyone's condolences. ]