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“Akaashi? Akaashi! Hey- what’s wrong?”
Akaashi Keiji blings away the tears, shakily reaching his right hand up to gently wipe away the tears that have started to pool at his eyes. Bokuto is looking at him with slowly growing confusion, large gold eyes blinking owlishly. Somewhere inside of him, the setter feels like flinching away from the boy.
He knows that Bokuto-san is strong...he’s just never really had that strength directed at him in all of his one year at Fukurodani. The thought of it having been a year, a whole year and almost the start of another, with being on the same court as the greatest hitter he has ever seen is almost enough to make him momentarily forget about the pain.
Almost .
“I think” Akaashi says, taking in a shaky breath “That I need to go to the nurses office. If you will excuse me.” He closes his eyes, fighting back the pain that radiates from his left wrist. He knows not to move it but the temptation is too great, some part of him wanting to see how much it will hurt, if the horrid cracking noise that came wasn’t his joint merely popping but the bone (or bones) there breaking.
“What’s wrong with your hand? Did I hold it too hard? Is it bruising? I’m sorry” Bokuto whines. Akaashi bites the inside of his lower lip.
“It’s okay, Bokuto-san.”
“B-but your wrist is turning purple.” Bokuto bows his head. “I’m sorry.” Akaashi offers him a small smile that he really hopes doesn’t look more like a grimace. He doesn’t want him to feel guiltier than he already is.
Akaashi nods and turns.
He isn’t able to set until the next school year.