Chapter Text
Koutarou has many regrets. Being the type of person to act before thinking, his past is filled moments he wishes he could take back. Such as that time he accidentally stuck his hands in a vat of purple paint, and his hands were bright violet for a solid two weeks. Or the month he’d spent wearing a hat in summer because he accidentally cut off some of his hair. It was for the sake of satisfying his curiosity, he told Kenma and Kuroo! The zillions of times he forgot to study and failed a quiz, those regrets piled up fast. Koutarou never lingers on his regrets, but they definitely exist.
The biggest regret of his entire life is the moment he let Kuroo and Kenma have their way with “disguising” Akaashi.
They both disappear, leaving Koutarou alone with Akaashi again, and this time his nerves are going haywire. Akaashi is quiet, simply sitting next to him and watching Koutarou play video games. There is some chatter, all one sided, all ending in broken pauses. Neither seem to know what to say, but neither leave, so both simply exist beside each other. Ideas of what it will be like having Akaashi at school keep flashing through his head, but Koutarou resolutely focuses on his video game. It’s easy to focus on the flashes and sound effects, after all. They’re very attention drawing, even if the boy next to him seems to have cast some sort of spell on Koutarou.
An hour later, Kenma and Kuroo return, much to Koutarou’s relief. He’s been told his fashion leaves something to be desired, and he has no idea how to do any other part of the whole “hide Akaashi” thing, so he’s glad when Kuroo drops two plastic bags of things on the couch.
“We’ll just put him in your clothes for now,” Kuroo says, brushing off his hands like he just carried something heavy, not just two measly bags. “We got brown contacts, those will help with the eyes. Also, dark hair dye, cause buddy,” he glances to Akaashi, squinting. “That white stripe in your hair seriously stands out.”
Akaashi actually reacts to that, his hand flying to his temple, where the offending hair is a little hidden by the rest of his dark curls. “My hair… alright…”
“What is it, anyways?” Koutarou asks, curiosity getting the better of him. He can’t help but ask, as it seems the white stripe is important.
“This is…” Akaashi is hesitant. Hesitant. His voice is almost soft, and when Koutarou meets his eyes, he can practically feel the soft shyness radiating from Akaashi. “This is a link. Or, it is the side effect of a link.”
Kuroo just raises an unimpressed eyebrow, while Koutarou keeps staring at Akaashi. He stares at Akaashi a lot, he realizes, but can anyone really blame him?
“Anyway,” Kuroo moves on, ignoring the fact Koutarou is lost, yet again, in Akaashi’s eyes. “Mr. Vague, that streak is just gonna be covered up. Also, I grabbed my school file from last year, so we’re gonna use that as a reference for Akaashi’s fake one.”
“Why do you even have that…” the sigh is from Kenma, who’s somehow managed to plant himself on the chair he was occupying earlier, his phone covering his face as he pokes away at it.
Kuroo’s haughty sniff and hand wave of dismissal make Koutarou snort, while Kuroo just says, in the most lofty voice possible, “I have my sources.”
Kenma isn’t impressed, just lowers his phone enough that he can glare at the two of them. “Or you’re a nerd, your mother is the principal, and for some reason you know how filing works in a school.” The words are partnered with an almost haughty eyebrow. If it wasn’t Kenma, it would definitely be haughty. But coming from him, with the monotone voice and half lidded eyes, it’s just unamused and a little bit fond.
The staged gasp of mock-hurt Kuroo gives makes Koutarou laugh even more, his nerves relaxing. Having his best friends to help him makes life a lot easier.
“Could we please just get on with this?”
Koutarou turns back to Akaashi and nods quickly, and pulls a bag close to him to rummage around in it. “Yeah! They’ll show us what to do so when we get ready for school tomorrow, it’ll be easy!” Easy is what he hopes it will be. But, if the nagging sense of trepidation is anything to go by, “easy” is not going to the the adjective of choice when it comes to this operation.
Akaashi looks skeptical as he pulls the other bag towards himself and reveals a pack of boxer brief underwear and a pack of socks. “I will reimburse you for all of these supplies,” he says, setting the things down and pulling out what seems to be a cheap, pay by the minute phone. “What is this?” He turns the phone over curiously, sliding it open to reveal the keypad.
“Oh! That’s a phone! So we can talk to you! These two are geniuses!”
Twin looks of mild amusement meet Koutarou’s enthusiasm, coupled with Kenma’s quiet, “You’ll be paying us back, Koutarou. For all of it.” Thankfully, that won’t be an issue.
Koutarou groans and flops backward, holding up a manila envelope and a plain, grey folder. Papers spill from it and into his lap, some even landing on the floor. They look like official documents, with lots of boxes and lines with neat handwriting and signatures. He watches them float down, a forlorn look of despair crossing his face. Koutarou is many things, but graceful and careful are no on that list.
“So this is the guy you chose to keep you some from the big bad evil guys?” Kuroo snickers, poking at a paper with his toe and glancing at Akaashi. “Of all the people in this place you choose big and clumsy.”
“Yes,” Akaashi sighs, watching Koutarou with an unreadable gaze. “This is the one I chose as my keeper.” His words are certain, even if he looks like he is questioning his decision. His gaze lingers on Koutarou, unbeknownst to the other. For a second, his hand lifts as if to touch his face or hair, but quickly drops to his lap.
Kuroo gives them a look, then bursts into raucous laughter. “Good freaking luck!”
“You’re going to need it,” Kenma adds.
Koutarou lets out a long whine, and another paper slips to the floor.
-
It takes two hours and seventeen minutes to successfully complete Akaashi’s fake enrollment papers. Kuroo mostly takes care of it, with some input from Kenma, and Koutarou’s enthusiasm appearing in loud support of every decision. Akaashi is mostly passive, agreeing to the name Akaashi Kenji, and only saying he wants to be in Koutarou’s class when asked his age. That gets an eyebrow from Kuroo, but it isn’t questioned. Once the papers are completed, they quickly set up the hone, and give Akaashi a quick briefing on how the school works. Luckily for them, Akaashi explains the lessons he used to attend as a child, and so he’s familiar with the concept of school. The phone takes some time to figure out, but by the time they’re done, it’s getting late, and Akaashi is sending test-texts to Koutarou, until Kenma tells him he has a limited amount, and Akaashi instantly stops.
By then, it’s definitely late into the afternoon, Kenma and Kuroo have missed the rest of their school day, and all three are going to need to hurry along to volleyball practice.
“Can we take Akaashi with us?” is what Koutarou asks when Kenma quietly reminds the group of practice.
The owl prince perks up, curious. “Volleyball. What is this? Training?”
Koutarou laughs, shaking his head and grinning. “No, silly! It’s a game! With a ball! And I’m the ACE! That means I’m the best and strongest and awesomest!”
“Actually–“ Kuroo interjects, “It means he’s the strongest spiker. Specifically. There’s quite a few rules, but I suppose you could come join us. What’s your skill set? Jumping? Arm strength? Light on your feet?”
After a moment of consideration, Akaashi replies with, “I am highly skilled at attuning myself to the movements of others, and my pinpoint accuracy is also considerably exceptional. I am also very athletically fit.”
Kuroo is eyes, glancing over to Koutarou. “Managed to find someone with your modesty, huh?”
The remark is completely lost on the intended party.
“Well, whatever. Let’s take him. He can at least run drills with us, and we can’t just leave him here.”
Kenma stands and shuffles over to stand with Kuroo, grabbing his jacket sleeve. “Come on, let’s go,” he says, quietly, pulling him towards the door. “I want to talk to you.”
They disappear out the door, leaving Akaashi and Koutarou alone once again.
Koutarou turns to Akaashi, eagerness clear on his face. “Let’s go get ready for practice!” he cheers.
Akaashi just smiles to himself as his exuberant host bounds out of the room, and then follows Koutarou up the stairs.