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Bokuto flapped his cape, making himself fly faster. He needed to get to the cave before the rain could drain his energy. He knew the way by memory, avoiding the giant trees swiftly to then plummet into the familiar entrance.
Safely under the roof, he gave himself a minute to catch his breath and warm up by the campfire. Bokuto looked up, his eyes farting everywhere trying to see if he was alone. He made a short but loud noise, a call that his people use to find each other. Not a few seconds went by when a similar but higher call. It was faint, but it was exactly what he needed. He waited a few moments and called again, this time the response was closer. The exchange went on for a few seconds more before someone appeared from one of the upper halls of the cave. Bokuto got up from the stone he was sitting on and walked over the circles of flimsy rocks. He called again and stomped on the floor, making the stranger understand that he needed their help.
After a few more stomps the floor under them caved in, letting both of them fall on a big slide, and inevitably going down the corridor. The path led to a cave so big that it could fit trees as big as the ones under the rain. Bokuto inhaled a sharp breath, smiling to himself in awe. No matter how many times he saw that tiny world, the butterflies that fluttered around, the mantas that flew lazily around the glowing mushrooms, the jellyfishes that seemed to be frozen in time when floating mid air. It was just magical.
He let his eyes wander over the scenery a little longer before bowing to the stranger by his side and jumping off the edge of the platform and gliding to one of the smaller caves that were carved in the wall. Carefully, he landed on the floor and slowly approached the white glowing creature that sat crouching in the middle of the room. Bokuto wasn't in a rush, so he calmly and curiously observed as he reached for his red candle and put it near the sitting creature.
When the heat of the fire reached the white light, the figure's glow started growing exponentially until it filled the room and blinded bokuto through his owl shaped mask. When he was able to open his eyes, he saw an orb bouncing across the room leaving a blue trail of light behind it. When the ball of light reached the opposite wall, it stopped, and transformed into a figure now very familiar to Bokuto. The creature was now a spirit, shining with an iridescent blue and the beauty of its nature. The spirit wore a cape very similar to Bokuto's and a light and elegant mask with two marks under his eyes. The white hair dripped down around the mask in soft curls, that very much contrasted the spiky and upright hairstyle that Bokuto had chosen for himself. The spirit was calmly reaching his hand to one of the top shelves that were full of books and scrolls. He needed to get on his tiptoes, making it seem like he was going to fall at any moment. But he wouldn't. This was merely a statue, a picture through time, a tiny moment that could perdure for Bokuto to admire, enthralled by any mundane action the memories depicted.
He had been staring for long enough now, so he slowly reached his hand to the spirit. His touch went right through, just as expected, though he hoped that, for once, his hand was met with solid material. The spirit vanished to his touch, turning back into the orb and floating to another side of the little library, where the figure came back and created another scene. Bokuto knew the sequence by heart, and he danced and hopped around the space in an odd symphony that the blue one led.
The last stop the spirit would do was sitting at the table. Papers and scrolls scattered all over the table, a small bottle of glowing ink to the right of the beautiful creature. He was looking up to the side with a finger to his chin, wandering, thoughtful. Bokuto simply stared, almost eating the scene with his eyes just like he did the first time he saw the spirit. If he hadn't relived these memories a thousand times already, he hadn’t any. And just like every other time, he emulated the spirit's pose, making himself part of the scene. Bokuto sat at one of the chairs across the table, leaning his head on his hands and just taking in the softness and intrigue of the creature before him. He wanted to know more, he needed to know more.
After some time, the spirit vanished, marking the end of Bokuto's little excursion. He wasn't too worried about it, the spirit would be back, he always was. And Bokuto would be back, he always did. Hesitantly, we walked to the edge of the cliff and jumped. He let himself fall on top of the flock of birds, and without much effort, they carried him out and into the rainy day.
Not too much time passed by until Bokuto was back in the cave. A similar sequence of events happening, just like every other time. Today, Bokuto decided to observe the spirit when he was choosing one of the many differently shaped ink bottles. With the cries of the mantas in the background and the crackling of the candle, the scene was homely and welcoming, so much so that Bokuto was falling asleep curled up on the floor.
Through sleepy eyes, he could have sworn he saw the spirit’s chest move a bit as if it were breathing. That couldn't be...right? All the tiredness drained from his body now immensely curious and confused. He had seen these same images so many times they were engraved in his mind. And he had never breathed. Ever. He blamed it on his sleepy mind and decided that this was probably enough for today. Before letting himself drop over the cliff, he looked back, part of him hoping that the spirit would move again.
This new image was hunting his every thought, dragging him to the cave way more often than he already did. But just like most times, the spirit did not move from the positions Bokuto had seen oh so many times. He was starting to lose all hope he had and starting to think he was hallucinating. He was standing up to leave when the spirits fingers closed over the chosen quill. Butterflies started twirling with happiness inside Bokuto's stomach. That is all the confirmation he needed, and the excitement escaped him in the form of a squeal that filled the room with light.
Over time Bokuto discovered tiny movements in all the other images, treating these finds like he had discovered the most important thing in the world. He jumped around and let out shrieks of pure joy. Bokuto enthusiastically looked for these tiny alterations, finding them in all of the scenes. In all but one. He sat at the table, the last scene, burning a hole though the blue glow with his stare. He had been studying this last image for a week now, and far, nothing. The spirit stayed with the finger on his chin, as still as he ever was. Bokuto was getting frustrated, so he stood from the chair and started walking around the room. Without taking his eyes off the spirit of course. Wantering behind the blue's chair, he happened to gaze over the scroll the spirit seemed to be writing on. There was a candle drawn in the middle of it. Bokuto's eyes studied over the simple inscription. He had never paid much attention to the paper since his attention was demanded by the spirit.
Instinctively, Bokuto reached for his candle, twirling it between his hands, flame dancing on the wick. He put the candle to the spirit, carefil for the flame to not actually touch it, scared for the creature to vanish for the day. Nothing happened.
Bokuto dropped on his chair in defeat burying his face between his arms. He jolted back up, not being able to stay still for a long time. His eyes darted to the candle on the scroll. Gears were turning inside his head, you might have been able to see smoke coming out of it. But suddenly he noticed something else on the table. In the middle of the board was a hole, a candle holder. He was so used to seeing them that he had overlooked it. With the realisation came a sudden, stupid idea. He reached for one of his white candles, and without much thought, he pressed it into the hole of the table.
A few seconds went by and they seemed like an eternity to Bokuto. The spirit glowed brighter and the orb appeared again in its place. It started flying with a quick pace, first around the table and then out the cave, rapidly heading for the surface. It took Bokuto a moment to realise what was happening, but once he did, rushed to jump off the edge and follow the light. Keeping up with it was challenging at first, dodging trees at a questionable speed, testing how well Bokuto actually knew these woods. He flew, he ran, he jumped, he ducked chasing the ball of light. They made it past the dense woods and entered the mountains, flying around tall and steep snow dunes. Once up in the air, Bokuto was able to catch up, occasionally getting closer to the light to feed off of the heat when he was running low on energy.
The light guided Bokuto over the icy summits and above the dark sand of the desert safely on top of the blue spotlights. they were reaching the temple and the spirit showed no sign of slowing down, but Bokuto still mindlessly followed into the building. A door at the end of the hall opened, behind which was a platform that took Bokuto and the spirit near the top of the highest mountain in the map. Bokuto took a step back when he saw the light go towards and past the temple. He was a little familiar with this region and after this area there was the… No, it couldn’t be, why would the spirit take him there? he’d die for sure. Bokuto was even more confused than what he was before, and, well, he was terrified. Still he somehow gathered enough strength to go forth and cross the next door.
Before him lay a giant stone doorway, a strong wing making everything around him violently shake, all encased with an orchestra of loud noises that sounded like screams of agony. Bokuto definitely didn't like this place. The spirit was easy to find there, its soft blue glow contrasting with the dim red lighting around them. It almost seemed welcoming and homely, pulling him to follow as if it were the song of a siren.
Behind the doors was pure chaos, rocks raining every few seconds, giant bug-like monsters that hunted people like Bokuto, plants and crystals that would drain your soul if you stayed near them for long enough. Nevertheless, the spirit made its way up between the ruins just as fast and swiftly he had been doing so far, Bokuto barely being able to tail it. The higher they got the more dangerous everything was. The plain in front of them was planted with Bokuto’s people, kneeling on the ground as if in prayer, light no longer in them.
Despite the spirit making its way forward, Bokuto decided to stop as much as he could, ripping pieces of his own cape and stuffing the scraps in between the cracks of the stone statues. He was sacrificing a part of himself, but the pain of seeing some of his siblings trapped in there pained him more than everything. Slowly he made his way forward to where the blue light was going. He couldn't avoid getting hit by flying crystals that came down like missiles carried by the wind. It was harder to walk, the water beneath his feet dragged like hands of lost souls trying to claim him as one of them. He was tired, he was so tired. there were no safe fires he could shelter himself next to, so he kept going. Tears dripping from his eyes and getting caught behind the mask, making it hard to see.
The faint glow of the spirit called for him, he gave another step. The light was twinkling, as if encouraging him to keep going, he gave another step. The twinkle became faster, desperate, even if there were no words there was a very clear message that screamed “Stand up. Follow me”, he gave another step. Or so he tried. His foot slipped under the water and Bokuto fell to his knees. He wanted to stand up and keep going, but he simply couldn’t find the strength to. He gave in, holding what was left of his cape close to his neck, tears puddling under the mask, just feeling the light drain from him and not being able to do anything about it. so he didn’t fight the inevitable.
Bokuto woke up in an empty place. Nothing was above him, nothing was below him, nothing was around him. The sight of emptiness was unsettling, he went to seek comfort under the weight of his cape, but it wasn’t there. He turned around, desperate to find something when a blinding light caught him off guard. Once he became accustomed to the brightness he opened his eyes a little more, and what he saw left him breathless. He was standing right there in front of Bokuto, the spirit from the library was right there. Bokuto didn’t move, he was too stunned to do so. Slowly, the spirit lifted a hand, signaling Bokuto to come closer. Very hesitantly Bokuto reached his hand for the welcoming gesture, his fingers barely brushing over the spirit’s palm, scared that it would vanish just like he did every other time. This time he didn’t, he held out his hand, giving Bokuto the time he needed to hold it. The spirit gently pulled Bokuto toward himself and let go of his hand to spread his arms, inviting him for a hug.
Still not comfortable with being able to touch the spirit, Bokuto twitched a couple times before becoming fully comfortable with the embrace and sinking into the other’s arms. The nothing that surrounded them seemed to become hazy and start to twist and turn. To avoid getting more dizzy, bokuto closed his eyes and sunk his face on the crook of the spirit’s neck. He felt things come back to normal, and after some internal debate, he decided to open his eyes. When he did, he saw he was home. The familiar doors spread in front of him, displaying the different realms of his world. He looked around, everything was just as he remembered it.
He stood up from the platform and dusted his knees. A call sounded behind him, and he jolted around to the sudden sound. Behind him stood the image that he had engraved in his mind. Those soft curls that framed the delicate mask, the calm yet curious stance. Except it wasn’t an image now, he was there, he was real.
The no longer spirit waved, Bokuto returning the gesture before going near. The other one knelt, offering Bokuto a white candle just like the one he pressed to the table. He accepted the offer without a second though.
—Hi— The voice came through Bokuto’s ears like a sweet melody, a little deep, but very soft nonetheless.
—H-hi! You are the spirit from the library right?— He couldn't help himself, he had so many questions. The other one chuckled a bit, a sound that Bokuto wanted to replay a thousand times just like he had done with the memories.
—Yes. I've finally met you— He said, enthusiasm audible in his voice under the politeness.
—You wanted to meet mee?
—Heh, of course! I was observing you too, you know? You aren't the only curious one.
Bokuto fell into thought for a second, lifting a hand to scratch the back of his neck and hummed.
—What is it? You look like you have something to say
—Huh? Oh, yeah, I just realised that i don't know your name, I have always known you as the "Thinking Scribe"— He gestured the quotations for emphasis. This made the other one chuckle again, causing all the butterflies in the world making Bokuto's stomach their home.
—My name is Akaashi Keiji.
—Akashi...— Bokuto tried repeating.
—Well, actually-
—That's a really pretty name!—He interrupted Akaashi —I'm Bokuto Kotarou by the way!— His voice boomed as he extended his hand.
—Nice to meet you Bokuto-san— Akaashi took his hand and squeezed it in a handshake. Bokuto made the small gesture as long as he could make it. Even the smallest of touches was valuable for him now that Akaashi wouldn't vanish.