Chapter Text
Once upon a time, in a perfect world, I fell in love.
We grew up, got married, had two children, adopted two dogs and an owl, and lived a happy, content life.
If only this world were perfect.
Many people say that love can hurt.
They say, "it hurts being the one who loves more."
I think they're right.
My name is Akaashi Keiji.
Once upon a time, in this imperfect world, I fell in love.
It began on the third day of my second year in high school.
Everything was normal. I was still on the volleyball team, which didn't change much. My friends still attended Fukurodani, and while I did miss the previous third years, seeing the incoming first years was nice. All that had changed was my level of seniority. Everything was as it should've been.
When I entered the clubroom to change clothing for afternoon practice, I was met by a small squabble between Bokuto, the ace and newly appointed captain of the team, Komi the libero, and Konoha the resident 'jack of all trades.' I couldn't understand what they were bickering about until Bokuto noticed I had entered the room.
"AGHAASHIIII!" He hollered, breaking up the fight as all three pairs of eyes focused on me. "Which of us do you think is the better volleyball player?"
"I think you mean best, if you're talking about all three of you. You use better when comparing two things," I corrected him, ignoring the salty expressions I received as I continued. "I think you're all strong in your own ways. That's what makes our team strong, by combining those different strengths."
"Bleh you're no help," Konoha grumbled, folding his arms. "I still think I'm the strongest." "Yeah right, mister jack-of-all-trades-" Komi began to retort, but was interrupted by Konoha.
"Exactly! I can handle any position solidly, unlike you two!" He said proudly, but Komi wasn't done yet.
"-master of none," Komi finished, the smug smile transferring from Konoha's face to Komi's.
I couldn't help but sigh as I watched their antics, returning my focus to my bag.
I had begun to change out of the school uniform and into my gym clothing when Bokuto said thoughtfully, "I think Akaashi is the strongest."
I froze.
"What? Why?" Konoha asked, reflecting my own bewilderment in his voice as he questioned the ace's words.
"Well, he's the setter. He's the calmest, the smartest, he guides the team even in tough situations, and he brings out our strengths out to use on the court!" Bokuto explained. I could feel his gaze on my skin as he spoke.
There was a moment of choking silence as the other two third years processed his words, and the temperature in my cheeks was continuously rising with each second that passed.
"... Huh. I never thought of that," Komi stated, folding his arms as he looked at me as well, before looking at Bokuto. "Those were some wise words for an idiot!"
"I'm not an idiot!" Bokuto retorted, the previous aura of calm thoughtfulness turning back into his usual rambunctious nature.
As the two of them argued, Konoha was still looking at me, obviously concerned. "Akaashi? You okay?" He called, and I nodded a bit too quickly.
"Y-yeah, I'm fine, just a bit warm," I assured him as I pulled on my t-shirt, grabbing my volleyball shoes to put on in the gym. I didn't look back at the three of them as I hurried out of the clubroom, my cheeks practically on fire.
Bokuto's words were stuck on repeat in my head. It wasn't the first time he'd said something sweet, meaningful, or flattering out of the blue like that, but suddenly it felt different to me. It made my heart race and my cheeks hot.
I then realized something that I'm not sure I ever really came to regret.
I was falling for the new team captain.
----------
Everything was fine for the first week or so. I went to school and practice as usual. I walked home with Bokuto, and while I tended to get a bit flustered around him, I didn't let it show. Each day, I kept my feelings to myself.
We were already close friends, and I didn't want to ruin that. Plus, just being around him made me happy, and that was good enough for me.
Little did I know that I'd come to severely regret that mentality.
It was Saturday, and Bokuo had asked me to help him study for an upcoming test. While Bokuto wasn't exactly the studious type, he really did try his best, and I admired him for that.
I always found it amusing that I'm a year younger than him, but I still helped him with his work.
In any case, we met up at the library, where they had various spaces set up with chairs and tables for students. We, well, Bokuto, picked a table with two bright blue chairs on the second floor next to a window that overlooked the town below.
"Are you sure you want to sit here? You get easily distracted," I asked him, and almost had to look away from the childlike pleading expression he gave me.
"Aw, c'mon Aghaashi, it's pretty right here! You can see the cherry trees blossoming in the park!" Bokuto said excitedly, pointing towards the pink-flowered trees growing around the park across the street.
I sighed, giving in, not even having to say anything as Bokuto knew what my reaction meant. He eagerly sat down on one of the blue chairs, setting his bag down on the floor to take out his notebook and textbooks.
I did the same on the other side of the table, leaning my schoolbag against the chair to take out my supplies.
"Aw, dammiiiiit!" Bokuto suddenly exclaimed in a whispery tone, running his hands through his hair frustratedly. He probably remembered at the last second that they were in a library. "I totally forgot my pencils! I knew I was forgetting something!"
I hesitated for a moment before reaching into the pencil case I'd brought for myself, taking out a single mechanical pencil and an eraser. "Bokuto-san, you can borrow one of mine," I offered, holding out the pencil and eraser in my open palm.
Bokuto's eyes lit up at the offer, a wide grin replacing his distress as he accepted the objects. "Thanks, Aghaashi! You're a real life saver!"
I couldn't help but tense up as his fingers brushed the palm of my hand, heat flaring in my cheeks. His hands were… really strong, but gentle at the same time. And really warm…
"Akaashi?" Bokuto's concerned tone broke through my thoughts, and I looked past my hand, which I'd forgotten to lower after Bokuto had taken the pencil and eraser, to see Bokuto leaning forward to look up into my eyes, his expression full of concern. "Are you feeling okay?" He asked softly. "Your cheeks are very red."
"Y-yes, Bokuto-san, I'm fine," I stammered upon realizing the situation, quickly standing up. As I came crashing back to reality, I realized that there was a strange tightness in my chest. "I-I just need to use the bathroom," I said hurriedly, leaving Bokuto alone at the table as I quickly walked to the library bathrooms.
The single-user "family" room was vacant, so I decided to go in there instead of the men's stalls. Locking the door, I pressed my back against it, looking at the ceiling as I slid down the metal surface. My hand pressed against my chest as I wheezed with each breath. It was becoming a bit difficult to breathe. Was it my nerves? My embarrassment? My shame?
No… Something was wrong. My throat began to tingle as though something was stuck in it, and I immediately moved to the toilet, putting my hands on either side as I began to cough.
I could feel my body shaking with each cough, my grip on the toilet seat tightening as I felt something falling out of my mouth and into the water. My eyes were squeezed shut on instinct, so I didn't know what I was suddenly coughing up.
Did I eat something bad earlier, I wondered? I struck down the thought, knowing that I wasn't vomiting. Something definitely wasn't right.
After the first few coughs, most of what followed was just reflex. As I caught my breath, I lifted one of my hands to cover my mouth as I closed it, a strange taste lingering on my tongue. Almost metallic.
My heart sank as I felt a liquid on my hand. Opening my eyes to look at my palm, my breath nearly stopped as a knot of fear formed in my throat.
Blood.
I'd been coughing up blood.
Moving my hand to view the toilet, my eyes widened at the red that swirled around the water, as well as the four flower petals that floated on the surface.
Four delicate, pale pink petals, partially stained red by my own blood.
I stared at the sight for a moment. Coughing up blood wasn't good at all. But… Flower petals?
I took a moment to collect myself and my thoughts before taking a deep breath, and flushing the bloody petals away. I then went to the sink to wash my hands and face, my throat still tight and sore from coughing.
I washed the blood on my hands wash away before lifting my gaze to look at my reflection. My eyes were so red… Had I been crying? There was blood staining the skin around my mouth, too.
"I'm a mess…" I murmured, looking at the puffy-eyed figure in the mirror for a moment before lowering my head and washing out my mouth.
I couldn't bring myself to face Bokuto like this.
I returned to the table where Bokuto still sat, watching the street from the window. His head turned in my direction as I approached, and he immediately jumped up, a look of deep concern on his expression.
"Akaashi?" He said, saying my name correctly, "are you okay? You were gone for a really long while."
"I'm sorry, Bokuto-san," I apologized, beginning to clean up my own supplies. "I just don't feel very well… I'm going to go home."
“But… We haven’t even-” he began, but I cut him off, completely avoiding his gaze.
“I’m so sorry, I really don’t feel well,” I said, turning my back towards Bokuto as I walked away, unable to meet his eyes. I could hear him call my name, hear the worry and hurt lacing his voice, but I couldn't face him.
"I’m sorry, Bokuto-san," I repeated in a whisper to myself as I quickened my pace, gripping the strap of my bag as I exited the library, leaving behind a very confused and hurt friend.
----------
The next day was Sunday. Every Sunday, my parents and I would visit my grandparents for dinner.
Today, I asked if I could go a little early, offering to help prepare the meal with my grandmother. But I had another motive for going early.
My grandfather was a historian, and although he was retired, he still had a huge collection of history from around the world in his at-home library, a bedroom that the older couple didn't need. Not only did he have a library in a bedroom, he had a library in his mind. Years and years worth of knowledge.
If there was anyone to ask about coughing up flower petals, it was my grandfather.
"Keiji!" My grandmother greeted me a moment after I rang the doorbell. "You've come to help, right? Change your shoes, and come find me in the kitchen, dear," she said sweetly, moving out of the doorway to let me in.
"Thank you, Grandmother," I said with a respectful bow, entering the house and taking off my shoes, putting on a pair of the slippers my grandparents kept beside the edge of the genkan for guests. "I hope you don't mind, but before I come help, I had a quick question for Grandfather. Is he home?"
"Ah, not at all, dear! Your Grandfather is in his library, be sure to knock before going on in so that you don't surprise him. He doesn’t like surprises," she said warmly, pointing towards the hallway that led to the library before making her way to the kitchen. "Come find me when you're done asking your question!"
"Yes, Grandmother, thank you," I bowed again before making my way down the familiar hallway.
I stopped before the door to the library, taking a moment to calm my nerves. I’d always found my grandfather’s intelligence incredible and wonderous, but now, I was nervous that he’d figure me out. I sighed heavily before knocking on the wooden frame. "Grandfather?" I called, sliding the door open a bit to peer inside.
"Keiji? Is that you?" His grandfather called from the center of the room, and although I couldn't fully see him because of the bookshelf and lamp in the way, I had a feeling he was looking towards the door. "Come on in, kiddo!"
I stepped into the library, closing the door after myself and making my way around the shelf that was near the doorway towards the circular table in the center of the room. "Hello, Grandfather," I greeted with a bow.
"Aw, come now, give your grandfather a hug!" The older man grinned brightly, his attitude as cheerful as ever. He walked over to me and embraced me, and I have to admit that his hugs never fail to make me smile. "Now, what brings you to my library?"
I began to fidget with my fingers, a habit of mine. "Well, I had a question for you, Grandfather, since you know a lot about lore and myths and such."
"Ask away, son!" His grandfather replied, returning to his table to look at the article he'd been reading.
I hesitated for a moment, taking a small breath before asking, "do you know of an illness where you cough up blood and flower petals?"
My grandfather froze, processing my question for a moment before looking up at me, a grim look in his eye. That look made me nervous. "Ah, you must mean the Hanahaki disease."
"The Hanahaki disease?" I echoed softly.
"Yes. The only place I've ever found it written about was in a book that I do not have. However, I remember the lore very clearly. It is an illness born from unrequited love," he explained, turning to lean against the table. "It is only a myth, according to most."
"What happens?" I asked curiously, almost a bit eagerly. "Is there a cure?"
My grandfather raised an eyebrow at my questions, probably wondering why I was so eager to know. I cursed my own desperation. "The Hanahaki disease, as I said, is caused by unrequited love. When your love for someone is strong enough, but not returned, flowers will begin to grow in your lungs. In the earliest stages of the illness, you will occasionally cough up a few flower petals and small amounts of blood at a time. As it progresses, the number of petals will increase, eventually joined by whole flowers, and the amount of blood lost will increase as well, as the flowers cause your lungs to fill with blood. It will become more and more difficult to breathe. The only two outcomes of the illness are for your feelings to be acknowledged and returned in full, or you will suffocate to death."
My grandfather looked towards one of the bookshelves, a look of reminiscence in his gaze. “I remember when I first learned of this mysterious disease. It was described to me like this. ‘When your love is not returned, the love you breathe becomes the flowers inside of you. You have nowhere to put that love, so the flowers continue to grow, overflowing and falling from your mouth. Soon the flowers cannot continue to flow, for there are too many. When the last petal falls, if your love is not returned, the flowers surge, expanding like water in a clogged pipe, until the pipe breaks.’”
I just barely managed to keep myself standing, becoming somewhat lightheaded as my grandfather finished his explanation. "I see…" I managed to say quietly. "How long does it usually take to progress after the first sign of the disease?"
My grandfather's brow furrowed a bit. "According to the lore, about a month. Is there a reason you're so curious about the disease?"
I swallowed thickly at that question. I couldn't tell him the truth. "A few of my friends were talking about it in class, and I figured that you might know more about it. Thank you so much, Grandfather," I said with a warm, grateful smile, although fake, and bowed politely.
I don't think my grandfather fully bought it, either, but it was enough to make him smile and say, "anytime, Keiji. Now, hurry to the kitchen before your Grandmother comes looking for you."
I bowed once more before turning to leave the room, and out of the corner of my eye I saw a frown on my grandfather's face. Guilt surged through me as I left the library, but I couldn’t tell my grandfather the truth.
As I closed the door behind me, I had to take a moment to breathe and recollect my thoughts
One month.
That was all I had left.
----------
Sure enough, just like my grandfather had said, every day I coughed up more flower petals.
It had been about two weeks since I'd asked my grandfather about the Hanahaki disease, and one day more since I'd abandoned Bokuto at the library. Since that day, Bokuto and I hadn't really talked to each other. Bokuto had been really hurt by my sudden disappearance, and even though the following Monday and Tuesday were okay, I avoided the topic of my well-being like the plague.
That Wednesday had been the first time I'd left school without walking home with Bokuto since we’d begun to do so. It was my fault, because I'd run to the school bathrooms, about to start coughing up flower petals, and told him to go on without me. I couldn’t let him find out about the disease.
Since then, however… Things had been awkward, and last Friday, Bokuto left school without telling me for the first time.
Bokuto and I didn't really talk outside of volleyball practice, and even then we only communicated while playing. I didn’t really talk to the rest of the team, either. Without fail, every time I engaged in conversation with them, they brought up the questions of how I was doing or how I was feeling, so eventually I began limiting how much I talked to them. I couldn’t let them find out that I was dying.
Unfortunately, it was affecting the team’s playing.
I looked at my calendar as I sat down on my bed after another painful day of trying to hide my pain from my team. Today was Wednesday, and I'd never felt more alone. According to my grandfather's words, now, I only had about two more weeks left to live, and I'd die at the beginning of the next month, unless for some reason I could get Bokuto to love me back before then.
"Like that'll happen," I muttered, flopping onto my back and covering my eyes with my arm. Tears welled at the corners of my eyes, my heart aching as I thought about Bokuto. Why did I have to fall for him so hard? Because of my stupid feelings, I was hurting him. I was hurting Bokuto, and the rest of the volleyball team as well. I was dragging them down.
At that moment, my phone began to ring. Who in the world would be calling me? With a heavy sigh, I forced myself to sit upright, and flipped open my phone. It was Suzumeda, one of the managers of the team. I answered, bringing the phone to my ear. "Hi, Suzumeda-san, how are you?"
"I'm fine, Akaashi-kun, how are you?" She asked.
"I'm okay," I lied. "What can I help you with?"
"Are you sure you're okay?" She asked, and a knot began to form in my throat. "Sometimes you run out of the classrooms or from the gym during practice at random, and you haven't looked too well, either. Not to mention that you aren't talking very much. After you left today, the rest of us were talking, and we want you to know that we're here for you. Please, what's going on? You can tell us."
I bit my lip. Was I that obvious? Was I really dragging them down that much? I was quiet for a moment, contemplating how to respond.
"I appreciate your concern, Suzumeda-san, but I'm really okay. There's nothing you can help me with."
After I said that, I winced. That was poorly phrased. And based on the moment of silence that followed, I think that Suzumeda picked up on it.
"... Alright, well, remember that we're your teammates. You can depend on us, you know," she said, and even from over the phone I could tell that she was worried.
"Thank you, Suzumeda-san," I said a bit hurriedly, an all-too familiar tickle beginning to form in my throat, and I hung up before she could say anything else.
That probably worried her even more, but I was too panicked at that moment to think about it. I immediately hopped off of my bed and ran to the bathroom. Thankfully, my parents were working and not at home, so they wouldn't hear my stomping around as I stumbled into the bathroom and proceeded to cough violently over the sink. I suddenly gagged, something stuck in my throat. I was unable to breathe in, only able to continue hacking up whatever was in my throat, the scarily familiar metallic taste of blood coating my tongue.
I managed to clear my throat of whatever had been stuck, and it took me a minute to stop coughing by reflex and catch my breath. When I opened my eyes to look at the mess in the sink, my heart sank like a stone in water.
There, floating in the small pool of bloody water at the bottom of the sink, among a few loose petals, was an entire flower.
I didn't have the strength to wash my mouth out. I didn't have the strength to stand. I collapsed to my knees, letting out a hoarse cry of pain, beginning to sob. My hands gripped the edge of the sink, my forehead pressed against the door of the cabinet underneath, and I cried.
I couldn't be the setter my team needed. I couldn't be the friend Bokuto knew and wanted. I couldn't find a way to let go of my feelings. I didn't know how to get Bokuto to love me back.
It was too late.
I was going to die.
----------
"What?!" The entire Fukurodani volleyball team exclaimed in unison as they stared at me in complete shock.
It had been five days since Suzumeda called me, five days since the first time a whole flower had escaped my lungs. Since then, while I hadn’t coughed up any more flowers, my condition wasn’t improving, and it was getting more and more difficult to breathe properly. Today, however, I woke up at about four in the morning to cough up another flower. After that, my throat was in too much pain for me to return to sleep. So instead, I’d spent the time thinking. During that time, I’d come to a decision.
Now, it was the beginning of afternoon practice. At least, it was supposed to be.
I began to fidget with my figures as my gaze fell to the floor. "I'm quitting the volleyball team," I repeated, in a quieter tone than the first time.
My health was only getting worse, and so was my form while playing. If I was to die in a week, there was no used staying on the team, was there?
"Why, Akaashi?" Konoha asked, stepping forward, a mixture of hurt and panic in his gaze. "Did something happen? Did we do something?"
"No, you guys are fine-" I started, trying to think of how to explain my reasoning, but Bokuto cut me off before I could.
"Then why, Akaashi? You've been running away at random, not to mention you've completely stopped walking home with us or joining us after school outside of practice, and you've never given us a reason why," Bokuto said, his voice low, but full of pain. I couldn't bring myself to meet his gaze, because I knew that if I did, it would hurt even more. “Why, Akaashi? Why are you pushing us away?” He looked as though he were about to ask another question, but he stopped himself. I wonder why.
"Because…" I started, but I was unsure of how to continue. I couldn't just tell them that I was dying because I was being suffocated by flowers and that I only had about seven days left before I died unless Bokuto loved me back. I raised my arms as if to hug myself, putting my hands on either side of my waist instead. I was becoming more and more anxious with each second that passed. "It's… Complicated," I finally said, hating myself for how vague my response was. "I- I can't tell you what's wrong." I turned my back to the team to hide the tears that had begun welling up in my eyes. "I'm sorry."
I closed the gym door behind me as I walked down the steps, leaving my former teammates completely shell-shocked. I hesitated for a moment before I let go of the door handle as I heard Bokuto scream my name. It sounded… Heartbroken.
No. I couldn’t go back.
I let go of the door, leaving the school grounds so that I didn't have to see the heartbroken faces of my former teammates… So that they didn't have to see how heartbroken I was either.
After I left the club that Monday, I didn't have the guts, nor the heart, to talk to any of them. The day after, Komi tried to talk to me, but I excused myself to go to class. I ate lunch on my own. Every time I passed one of them in the hallway, I avoided their gazes, and Bokuto avoided me entirely. Understandably so, I knew. The love for him that had started this mess had turned bittersweet, a painful longing for his forgiveness, which I knew I’d never receive.
And just as my relationships at school got worse, so did the disease. My breathing became progressively worse as my lungs became filled with more and more flowers. After that second flower, each day I coughed up one or two flowers, and dozens of petals, not to mention the horrendous amount of blood I was losing. I looked and felt like a zombie, like I was just barely living. It hurt so much.
But it wasn't over for me yet.
----------
What do you do when you have two expected days left to live?
Some people may spend all of their money travelling and doing things on their bucket list, some will stay holed up and hidden from society, some are stuck in hospital beds.
I did homework.
I was the only one who knew about my illness, it wasn't like I could just stop doing what I was supposed to. Nothing would change, either way.
My mother had seen the big red circle two days away on my calendar, and when she asked me about it I'd told her that I was supposed to meet up with the team for an event.
I hadn't told my family that I'd quit the volleyball team, either.
Today was Saturday. In two days, it would've been exactly one month since I'd left Bokuto at the library. Exactly one month since I coughed up the first petals.
When I finished the homework assignment I had been working on, I put the pencil down, staring at it. I'd never gotten that pencil and eraser I’d lent to Bokuto back, I realized.
I let out a lengthy sigh as I lowered my head to my desk, one arm under the side of my head and my outstretched arm bending to rest against my scalp. There were a lot of things I hadn't done, now that I actually thought about it.
But now, I'd never get the chance.
Suddenly, my phone began to ring.
I hesitated a moment before lifting my head, pulling my phone closer and opening it to read the name.
"Bokuto-san…?" I murmured, my brow furrowing. Why was he calling me?
It couldn't hurt to answer.
Pressing the button to answer the call, I brought the phone to my ear. "Boku-"
"Before you say anything," he interrupted me, "I want to talk. Not over the phone, face to face. Are you able to meet tonight at the park?"
I was shocked. This entire time, he'd been avoiding me… And now he wanted to talk? "Is something-" I began to ask, but he wouldn't let me finish.
"Just answer the question, Kaashi," he said, not in a rude or annoyed tone, just… A tone.
"... Yes," I answered, growing confused and concerned.
"Does seven-thirty work?"
"... Yes."
"Meet me by the fountain. I'll see you then." He hung up.
I pulled the phone away from my ear, staring at it for a few long moments.
What had that been about?
The last time Bokuto had spoken to me at all was when I quit the team last Monday, when he continuously asked me ‘why’, a question I couldn’t answer.
I looked at the time in the corner of the screen. It was about four in the afternoon. That meant I had three and a half hours before I was supposed to meet Bokuto, who had just called me and asked to meet with me, in the park.
I was elated, because the widening void of loneliness in my heart was warmed by the fact that he still wanted to talk to me at all, even after all that I’d done to him.
But I was also terrified. I had no idea when exactly I was going to suffocate on flowers and die. I had no idea when my next coughing fit was going to occur. There were too many unknowns, and too many things I didn't want to become known. If I ran away from Bokuto again during this meetup, I would never get another chance to speak to him again. Not only because Bokuto would hate me too much to even see my face, but I wouldn't be around to show it.
I let out a shaky breath to try and calm my nerves.
Three and a half hours. That's all I had left until I had to face the person I loved most, the reason I was dying in the first place.
I closed the phone I found myself staring at, setting it back down on my desk and leaning back in my chair. Lifting my chin, I stared at the ceiling instead.
Man, what a strange experience losing your life to flowers was.
----------
While it wasn't cold enough to need a jacket, it was a bit chilly that night, so I wore a warm sweater to the park. It might've been spring, but the winter chill still haunted the night.
I sat on a bench near the fountain at the center of the park, watching the water sparkle in the dim light of the moon and park lamps. The sound of trickling water and evening pedestrian traffic filled my cold-tipped ears, carrying my mind along the endless river of distant thought.
I'd been waiting for Bokuto since about a quarter past seven, not realizing that getting here would've been so quick. I wasn't sure what time it was now, I hadn't been paying attention.
My mind went in circles, wondering the same thing over and over again. Why had Bokuto asked me to come here? The most optimistic part of me was hoping for a confession of some kind, to end this horrible disease and allow life to return to normal. The most pessimistic part of me, however, was expecting the worst. Maybe a demand for what was going on. I didn’t think he was smart enough or cruel enough to use threats or violence, but my brain kept the ideas within the realm of possibility.
As my mind continued to go back and forth, I soon saw a familiar silver-and-black-haired third year come to stand near the fountain. He was wearing the blue owl hoodie I'd gotten for him last August. As he stood still, he checked his phone and looked around a bit, probably looking for me.
I swallowed thickly, not sure if I was fully mentally prepared to meet Bokuto. But there was no time for second guessing.
I stood up from the safety of the park bench, cautiously approaching the lone figure that was waiting beside the fountain.
The moment I was able to make out his expression in the dim light, I could immediately see the smile on Bokuto's face. I'd never seen such a relieved smile on that hyperactive high schooler's.
"You came," he said softly, and I nodded.
"Yeah… I did," I agreed, averting my gaze a bit. I forced myself to keep my hands in my pockets instead of fidgeting with them. "Why-" I began to ask, but similarly to the way he'd done it on the phone, Bokuto cut me off.
"Wait, not here," he said, taking hold of my hand and beginning to drag me across the park.
"B-Bokuto-san, where are we going?!" I exclaimed in surprise, but Bokuto didn't slow down, nor did he explain where he was taking me.
It wasn't that hard to figure out, however, when a massive weeping willow tree came into view. It's long, sweeping, vine-like branches created a curtain of leaves around the trunk. I thought I could see pairs of feet from below the blanket of branches, but it was too dark to tell. I was about to question Bokuto again when he yanked me forward to put himself behind me, and pushed me towards the curtain of willow branches. I'm not fully sure, but I might've let out a small squeak of surprise as I lifted my arms instinctively to protect myself.
I lowered my arms and reopened my eyes after clearing the branches, and my breath caught in my throat.
Standing there, holding their phones and flashlights for light, were Konoha, Komi, Washio, and Sarukui, both managers Suzumeda and Shirofuku, as well as the two first years Anahori and Onaga. The entire team was there.
"Surprise!" Bokuto said in his usual bright tone, pushing me a bit further forward and towards the team.
"What…?" I began, but my mouth refused to form words.
"It's been almost a month since you started acting weirdly," Washio began, putting his weight on one leg. "When you ran off to the bathrooms the first few times, we thought it was strange, but it started getting more frequent and you were gone for longer times."
"When Suzu-chan called you, you said something like… 'there's nothing you guys can help me with,' or something. It sounded super suspicious!" Shirofuku continued, as whimsical as ever.
"Then you suddenly quit the club out of the blue. We tried to ask you why, but you didn't tell us. You said you couldn't tell us," Sarukui said, pointing a finger in the air as he spoke.
"Then you got really weird and avoided us altogether!" Komi exclaimed, throwing his hands to the sides to emphasize his words. "We all know something is really wrong, but you won't tell us what."
"The thing is," Konoha took a step towards me, "we're all really worried. You're the official setter of the Fukurodani volleyball team. Remember that conversation that bokuto, Komi and I had on the third day of school in the club room? You're our strongest player!"
"I already said this on the phone, but Bokuto had the idea of getting together to say it to your face. You're not alone, Akaashi-kun," Suzumeda said with a smile.
From behind me, Bokuto took hold of my shoulders. "You can depend on us, Akaashi. You've been hurting, and we can tell, but you're forgetting something very important."
All at once, every member of the team - my team - said, "we're here for you."
Tears began to spill uncontrollably down my cheeks. I had no idea what to feel, how to react.
"See? The entire team is here for you," Bokuto said from next to me, turning to look me in the eyes. "I'm here for you. Please don't push us away… Don't push me away."
I didn't have time to react before Bokuto embraced me with his strong, warm arms. And I continued to sob into his shoulder.
This was the person I'd fallen for, and I was the reason I was suffering. I didn't have the guts to tell him how I felt. I didn't have the guts to tell any of them what was wrong. Instead, I'd held it all in. I'd bottled it up, hid it within myself. And not only had I paid the price, but I made my teammates, my friends pay the price for my stupidity.
"I'm so sorry," I whispered into Bokuto's hoodie, reaching my arms around him to return the hug. "I thought I was protecting you all… I thought it was better that I stopped interacting now, before it was too late-"
"Too late?" Bokuto pulled away from me, a deep frown on his expression. "Too late for what? Akaashi, what exactly is wrong?"
"You can tell us, Akaashi-kun," Shirofuku chided with a smile, probably the only smile out of all of the concerned expressions that surrounded me.
"I-" I began, but now I was right back in square one. I took a step back from my teammates, from Bokuto. "I- I can't- I'm so sorry-" I choked out, taking another step back, and suddenly it was becoming difficult to breathe again.
"Akaashi? What aren't you telling us?" Bokuto pressed as he stepped forward, and Komi had to stop Konoha and Washio from moving forward to stop him.
"I- I-" I couldn't bring myself to tell them I was dying. The uncomfortable feeling in my throat was beginning to get stronger, a feeling I knew too well. It was too late. Now they'd know. "I-" What should I say at that moment? Would these be my last words to my friends? Something didn't feel right in me. I was beginning to wheeze as I took each breath, and I could feel the metallic taste of blood in my mouth.
"Akaashi?!" Bokuto exclaimed, beginning to move towards me as he noticed something was very wrong.
This didn't feel like other times I'd coughed. My lungs felt heavy, as if they were completely filled with the flowers that sealed my fate. My grandfather has said about a month, and it had been about a month.
This was it.
If this was my last chance to say anything, I decided to finally tell the truth.
"I… I love you, Bokuto," I managed, a weak smile taking hold of my pained expression, and I could feel blood dripping from the corner of my lip as I sputtered out the cough I’d been trying to hold back. "This entire time, I-"
I never finished my words as I began to cough, my entire body shaking as I choked on the flowers in my lungs. Blood and pale pink petals fell from my mouth as I coughed violently, and each time I coughed up a flower, my body convulsed. My heavy lungs were unable to bring in more air, and I collapsed to my knees, keeling over and continuing to hack up more blood, flowers, and petals than I had ever before.
I could hear the panicked voices of my teammates around me, calling my name and shouting for one of them to call an ambulance. An ambulance wasn't going to help, but I couldn't tell them that.
I could feel someone next to me, holding me, trying to help me stand or at least sit up, probably to allow air to pass through my airway. That wasn't going to happen, neither the sitting up nor the breathing. I couldn't breath at all, it was because of these flowers.
It wasn't the flowers fault, though. It was mine.
If only I'd told them sooner.
If only I’d done many things differently.
But now, it was too late. I hadn't even gotten the chance to finish expressing my feelings.
One voice reached my ears out of the many sounds around me as I began to get light-headed, everything around me growing darker, my feelings going numb.
That one voice… It was pained. Scared. Almost like a pleading sob. Yet, it was comforting. I wish I could hear that voice be happy again. But it continued to whisper quiet pleas to me as my consciousness faded.
"Akaashi… Please, I'm begging you… Don't leave me... You can't leave me…"
"I love you."
----------
The first sound I heard was the distant chirping of birds.
It was a strange sound to hear, as everything around me was dark.
I began to get some feeling in my body as I returned to my senses.
I wiggled my fingers.
My toes.
I tried to lift my right hand, but it felt like it was being held down. My left hand lifted a bit, though.
Then I took a soft inhale. I could breathe clearly. For the first time in a month.
Wait, what time was it? Did death have time?
I was dead… right?
With a bit of a struggle, I attempted to open my heavy eyelids. My body apparently didn't want to move or do anything, but I had other plans.
I managed to peel open my right eye first, but immediately squeezed my eyes shut as I was met by blinding light.
A world completely filled with light? I was definitely dead.
Or… Was I?
I attempted to open my eyes again, this time forcing them to stay open as I adjusted to the light.
At first, I still thought it was a completely white void. But then I could see shapes. White walls, A big window with light spilling in on the right, cabinets, chairs, a curtain that was only partially closed to the left of me.
Turning my head to the left and away from the bright sunlight coming from the window, my eyes strained less to adjust to the lighting. I soon realized I was in a hospital bed. The heaviness in my arm was the IV and a device that gently clamped onto my finger for monitoring my heart rate.
But I wasn't alone in the room.
I first realized this by the sound of soft snoring to my right, a sound I registered a bit late.
Turning my head to the right, my eyes flew open at the sight of a very familiar person.
There, sleeping in a chair and leaning against the bed, was a head full of silver-and-black hair.
"Bokuto-san…?" I rasped, the first word I'd spoken upon awakening. Wow, was my throat sore.
Bokuto didn't react to my voice, still sleeping soundly. He was still dressed in the clothing from that night in the park. Had that been the previous night? Had Bokuto been up all night at my side?
I smiled at him. I couldn't ruffle his hair like I wanted to because my right arm still felt heavy, so instead I watched him sleep. He was so peaceful.
Wait. I was still alive.
How was I alive? Last thing I remember, I was suffocating as flowers filled my lungs in front of the team… I'd collapsed, and then I'd blacked out. I thought I'd died.
I frowned. Had the doctors saved me? No, there was no way. They couldn't have gotten into my lungs without killing me that way.
"So how…?" I murmured, turning my head to stare at the ceiling. Something wasn't right. I couldn't have been saved by doctors, I couldn't have been saved by any normal means. So who…?
The answer hit me in the head like a frying pan. I'd totally forgotten about it. Granted, I was dying, so it wasn't like I'd remember every detail.
But the whisper in my ears… That voice…
I struggled to sit up, shaking the bed a bit in the process. I couldn't keep laying down. I felt like I was about to start crying. Sitting up, I was able to see Bokuto more clearly. I had so many things I wanted to say, so many feelings I wanted to express, but they were all caught in my raspy throat.
At that moment, Bokuto shifted, sitting up and yawning loudly. My shaking the bed as I’d sat up probably woke him up. He stretched his arms above his head, lowering one to rub his eyes. He didn't seem to register where he was for the first few moments, slouching forward and blearily staring at the opposite wall of the room. After blinking a few times, he turned his head, and his sleepy gaze met my tearful eyes.
I wasn't sure how long it was before he jumped up, his eyes larger than an owl's, and he exclaimed, "AGHAASHI! YOU'RE OKAY!"
He dove forward and onto the bed, practically on top of me as he wrapped his arms around me, holding me tightly as if I'd disappear if he let go. "I was so scared- I thought you were going to leave me- I thought-"
"Bokuto-san," I whispered, my voice too hoarse to raise my volume. "Thank you. You saved me."
He stopped, processing that, before looking up at my face. "I did?"
I nodded.
Bokuto was an idiot, but sometimes he didn't need things explained to him more than once. Sometimes he didn't need an explanation at all. He simply sat himself up and on the edge of the bed, his arms still wrapped around my waist as he held me close to him.
"I'm so sorry, Akaashi," he whispered. "Your grandfather explained to us last night what was wrong… You were suffering the whole time because I was too thick-skulled to realize how you felt… And how I felt."
"Don't apologize," I rasped, putting a hand on his head. His words made me happier than he could ever imagine. "I should've told you what was wrong. I should've told everyone. But all I did was continue to push you all away."
Silence befell the two of us as we sat there, holding each other close. An unknown amount of time passed by, but I enjoyed every second of it.
"Last night," Bokuto said quietly, his vocal cords vibrating against my chest, "the team all got together to show you that we were there for you. But… That's not originally why I asked you to meet me at the fountain."
"... It wasn't?" I frowned. It had definitely seemed like something Bokuto would plan.
"No," he confirmed as he shook his head a bit. "I wanted to return these," he said softly as he sat upright, reaching into the pocket of his hoodie and took out the mechanical pencil and eraser that I'd lent him all that time ago at the library.
"... That's my pencil," I murmured, taking the objects. "You didn't have to-"
"Er- That's not all," Bokuto used his now free hand to scratch the back of his head, glancing away as his cheeks began to turn pink. "I wanted to tell you…" He swallowed thickly, turning and looking directly into my eyes. I'd never seen him look so vulnerable.
"I wanted to tell you something more personal. I realized it yesterday. Why your absence hurt me so much. Originally, I thought it was because you were my best friend. The team setter. The most reliable person I know," he said with a weak smile. "But that wasn't it."
He placed one of his hands over mine, leaning forward until our foreheads were pressed together. My heart began to hurt as I choked back a sob.
“I finally figured it out,” Bokuto whispered, his breath warm against my face. Closing the distance, he gently pressed his lips to mine. A soft, tender, meaningful kiss. Time seemed to stop as Bokuto kissed me, all of his affection and regret pouring into me through the contact.
He moved his face away from mine to stare into my eyes, a soft, warm smile on his expression.
"Akaashi Keiji, I love you. I’m so sorry for making you wait for me… I wish I'd realized it sooner."
The sob wouldn't stay down. Tears streamed down my cheeks as I processed his words, his kiss, his feelings. He loved me. He returned my feelings. Was this a dream? Good God, I hoped it wasn't.
I threw my torso forward and wrapped my arms around Bokuto, the heart rate monitor device pulling away from my finger, causing the device to flatline. The IV in my arm hurt a bit too, but I ignored it. I clung to Bokuto, sobbing into his shoulder again.
"I love you too, Bokuto-san," I whispered into the fabric of his hoodie.
Two nurses and a doctor burst into the room, followed closely by my parents, grandparents, and a couple of my teammates, but I didn't open my eyes to look. I held onto Bokuto tightly, just as he held onto me, as I continued to cry into his shoulder.
These weren't the tears of heartbreak, of loneliness, the tears I'd cried many times in the last month.
These were tears of joy. Tears of happiness.
Finally, my feelings had been returned in full.
To all of you who heard my story, yes, love can hurt. It definitely hurts more to be the one who loves more.
But this world isn't perfect.
In a perfect world, maybe I fell in love and lived a good life. But without the pain of loneliness and heartbreak, would that love mean anything to me?
Once upon a time, in this imperfect world, I fell in love. In a perfect world, I lived a satisfying, painless life. But here, I had to know pain.
I had to know what it was like to lose a match in order to truly relish victory.
I had to know what it was like to fall in order to be strong enough to stand back up.
I had to know what it was like to be alone in order to understand the value of companionship.
I had to know what it was like for my feelings to be unknown in order to find meaning in my feelings for another.
So yes, once upon a time, in this imperfect world, I fell in love.
My feelings were not returned, because I kept everything to myself. Each day I suffered with flowers in my lungs because I forgot something very important.
In order to heal, you need to let yourself become vulnerable. You need to first understand pain.
It's not an easy thing to do, I know.
But I did it.
And I lived happily ever after.