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Akaashi rolled over in bed, pulling the covers up to his nose as he did. He couldn't stop himself from shaking under the blankets. He was so cold and no matter what he did, he just couldn’t seem to get warm. Akaashi shivered again and reluctantly abandoned any hope of falling back asleep.
He sighed and finally opened his eyes to look at the clock.
11:00
He frowned. Well, there go the plans of sleeping the day away.
He swung his legs over the bed and let them hover there before fully committing to getting out of bed. When his feet finally connected with the floor he closed his eyes and let out a deep breath.
Akaashi walked without really picking up his feet from the ground. He had just made it to the doorway of his bedroom with intentions of making his way to the bathroom to brush his teeth, when a noise in the kitchen caught his attention.
His heat shot up from where it had been staring at the floor to look towards the kitchen. He saw a large, familiar figure reach up to grab something from the cupboard above his head. When the figure closed the cupboard door and saw Akaashi standing in the hallway looking at him, his face broke into a wide smile.
“Bokuto-san?” Akaashi asked in a confused voice, like he didn’t quite believe his eyes.
“‘Kaashi, I told you to drop that. How long do I have to be your boyfriend before you learn?” He said walking over to him.
“Bokuto,” Akaashi corrected, staring at the man in shock, “what are you doing here?”
“I wanted to surprise you and make breakfast!” He exclaimed, the smile appearing on his face once again as he brought Akaashi into an embrace.
Keiji shivered and frowned slightly at the touch. Why was he so cold?
Akaashi pulled away after a moment and looked at Bokuto. His eyes were big and expressive and his smile was as wide as ever but there was something off about him. Keiji just couldn’t place what it was.
“It’s almost your birthday, so I wanted to start off the week strong!” Bokuto explained further after Akaashi didn’t respond.
The mention of Akaashi’s birthday made his head spin. Memories of snow covered streets, Bokuto’s bright smile, and lively music filled his head and he leaned against the wall for support.
He squeezed his eyes shut and pushed the thoughts away. He breathed in once, twice, then opened his eyes to answer Bokuto, hoping that he didn’t sense that anything was wrong.
Bokuto, unfortunately, did notice. His expression was clear with concern. He opened his mouth to say something, but Akaashi answered quickly before Bokuto got the chance to ask any questions.
“But it’s Sunday,” Akaashi said.
“Well, that counts doesn’t it?” Bokuto asked, furrowing his brows and looking at the ceiling thoughtfully. Akaashi felt something warm in his chest as he watched the emotion unfold on Bokuto’s face. His expression was so endearing.
“I suppose,” Akaashi replied, stepping towards the kitchen.
“Well, your birthday is only four days away now so, either way, I wanted to treat you early,” Bokuto shrugged, turning his attention back to Akaashi.
“How did you get in here though? I’m certain I locked the door last night before bed,” Akaashi inquired lightly, glancing back at Bokuto.
“The key under the doormat, of course,” he answered as though it were obvious, moving past Akaashi to get back to the stove.
Akaashi froze and stared at Bokuto as he moved through the kitchen.
The key under the doormat? No, that’s impossible. That’s only been there since last week. He couldn’t have known it was there because…
“Keiji?” Bokuto said, interrupting Akaashi’s thoughts. He looked at him with concern again and closed the distance between them quickly. Bokuto brushed Akaashi’s hair back from his forehead. “You okay? You look pale.”
“Yes,” Akaashi said slowly like he was in a daze. “I just didn’t sleep very well.”
“Did I wake you? You can go back to sleep if you—”
“No!” Akaashi said suddenly, taking Bokuto’s hands into his own. The familiar warmth they normally held was unusually absent. Akaashi’s eyebrows tilted slightly at the touch and he tugged his bottom lip in between his teeth in worry as he wondered once again why his boyfriend was so cold. Maybe it was just the apartment, Akaashi had woken up cold too. He pushed the thought out of his mind and pulled Bokuto closer. “No, I’m fine. Let’s just finish breakfast, okay?” He said softly.
Bokuto was quiet for a moment, studying Akashi before his hand moved through Akaashi's hair again.
He's quiet today, Akaashi noted as he convientley avoided meeting Bokuto's eyes.
Then Bokuto asked, “Do you want coffee? I started some for you.”
Akaashi nodded and followed Bokuto to the coffee maker. Bokuto reached up and pulled out Akaashi’s favorite mug from the cabinet over the coffee station. The mug was dark blue with two owls sitting together on a tree branch with snow falling around them. Bokuto had gotten it for him one Christmas and Akaashi unironically loved it.
He watched Bokuto pour the coffee into the mug and hand it to him. Akaashi stood with his hands wrapped around the mug, allowing it to warm his hands before taking a sip.
Bokuto left a kiss on Akaashi’s head then started back on breakfast.
It seemed like he was making a rice omelette but Akaashi wasn’t sure, he was barely paying attention to what Bokuto was cooking. He was just watching him. The way his shoulders moved as he prepared the food, his hands on the pan, his hair loose on his face that brushed across his forehead and into his eyes, the way his tongue stuck out a little bit when he concentrated. But his movements were staggered and almost rehearsed. His hand would move too early to flip the food in the pan and he would just freeze as though he was allowing time to catch up with him before continuing the movement. His eyes were blank like he wasn’t watching what he was doing at all, and his expressions were there but there was no depth. He seemed hollow.
The rice cooker went off and Akaashi jumped, not realizing how lost in thought he’d been.
He rubbed his eyes and stood up from where he’d been leaning against the counter. He picked up his mug and moved towards the window in the living room, to stare outside for a change in scenery and space to think.
It was only the first day of December and it was already snowing. He gripped his mug a little tighter and sipped his coffee that had started to cool down.
He watched people walk past his window. Some of them had dogs they were walking, others had kids who stopped to play in the snow, and a few passed quickly without even bothering to look up to admire the snowy scene. Akaashi saw cars drive down the street in various shapes and colors, rushing off in all directions.
He brought the mug back to his lips when a silver Toyota passed by and slowed to a stop outside of Akaashi’s building.
Suddenly Akaashi couldn’t see the street below him anymore. The only thing in front of his eyes was an image conjured from his own mind of a crushed silver hood, shattered glass from the headlights, a mangled driver’s side door, and spots of red, violating the otherwise perfectly white snow on the ground.
He choked on the coffee that hadn’t yet had the chance to move past his tongue and coughed into his elbow. He breathed heavily and his eyes were wide and locked onto the Toyota stopped at the stoplight a few stories down.
He felt a hand on his shoulder that twisted his body from the window, tearing his gaze away from the car. His eyes met Bokuto’s golden ones but he wasn’t seeing them.
“Hey, hey it's okay. Akaashi, look at me, please,” Bokuto said softly, searching his face.
Akaashi blinked and his eyes started to refocus. He stared into the wide eyes that should have looked familiar but felt so foreign to him.
Akaashi felt the formation of a lump in his throat and the hot prick of tears against his eyes but he breathed in and wiped his eyes quickly before they could fall. He smiled weakly and held his arms tightly against his chest as if that simple motion could keep everything wrapped up inside of him.
Bokuto’s eyebrows turned up in concern but he didn’t say a word as he held out a hand for Akaashi to take. Keiji stared at it for a moment before allowing himself a bit of indulgence.
Bokuto led him to take a seat where he’d already laid out breakfast. He sat down, trying to ignore Bokuto's eyes on him, and propped up his head in his hands. The thought of eating anything now made Akaashi feel sick to his stomach.
He was about to force himself to take a bite when his phone rang out from the bedroom. He turned his head in the direction of the room and moved to stand.
“I’ll only be a second,” he said in response to Bokuto’s curious face.
He walked to the bedroom and ran his fingers through his hair in an attempt to calm himself down. The phone was on its final ring when he finally picked it up. He answered calmly without looking at the caller ID. He didn’t need to, he already knew who was calling. For someone who didn't like speaking on the phone, Kenma was calling Akaashi an awful lot lately.
“Hello?” He said as he walked back towards the doorway of the room.
“Akaashi,” Kenma’s voice rang out as Akaashi leaned against the wall outside the bedroom so he could see Bokuto.
“Kozume,” he replied, “good morning.”
“It isn’t morning, it’s past noon,” Kenma’s tired voice said, “did you just wake up?”
“No, I—”
“Don’t lie.”
Akaashi scraped his thumb nail on the skin of his index finger and didn’t respond.
“Akaashi,” Kenma sighed, “It’s okay to ask for help, or at least accept it when it’s offered. I know that you’re having a hard time coming to terms with your depression but—”
“I'm not depressed, I'm fine,” Akaashi claimed as he watched Bokuto mess with their old record player.
“You’re not fine. You’re grieving,” he snapped back. “You’ve hardly left your apartment in the past week.” Akaashi heard a muffled sound come from the other side of the phone call like Kenma was shifting the phone to his other ear. After a pause, Kenma spoke again. “Kuroo and I are coming over. You shouldn’t be alone on a night like tonight.”
“Not tonight, Kenma,” Akaashi said in a rushed voice. He squeezed his eyes shut and smoothed out the lines on his forehead with his fingers. “Tomorrow?”
Kenma was quiet again before he sighed in defeat, “Tomorrow. No excuses. We’ll be there at 17:00.”
Akaashi heard the sound of a call hanging up and looked down at his reflection in the now blank phone screen.
“Akaashi!” He heard Bokuto call out from the living room.
As Akaashi moved closer to the room, he heard music playing gently. He felt the tears collecting in his eyes again as he was able to make out what song was playing.
“Do you recognize it?” Bokuto asked cheerfully.
Akaashi nodded, wiping his eyes again. Bokuto reached out to take his hand and pulled him close. Akaashi leaned into the embrace and buried his face into Bokuto’s chest as he led them in a slow dance around the living room.
Akaashi thought about the first time he heard the song all those years ago. It was such a happy memory.
It was early spring, nearing the end of Bokuto’s third year of high school. Keiji could sense something was weighing on Bokuto’s mind. His usually talkative friend had suddenly gone uncharacteristically quiet; he spent the majority of the day that way. Akaashi didn’t pry though, he figured that whenever he was ready, Bokuto would tell him what he was thinking about so intensely. It was rare that he kept anything of importance from Akaashi.
It didn’t take him very long; about halfway through volleyball practice that evening, Bokuto blurted out in the middle of a scrimmage, “Akaashi! Will you go out on a date with me?”
Akaashi was so taken aback that he fumbled his set, causing the volleyball to fall back and hit him in the face.
After about a hundred apologies and about as many reassurances from Akaashi that he was alright, Bokuto asked again and Akaashi accepted.
The two went out to Bokuto’s favorite restaurant and talked for hours, ending the night in a park where some live music nearby rang into the night. Bokuto had pulled him close and hummed along and the two danced slowly like that until it got dark.
Akaashi pressed his head to Bokuto’s chest in the safety of his living room just like he did that night, which was easier to do now with Bokuto’s extra 3 inches of height, and just listened to the music. Bokuto hummed and Akaashi relished in the familiar tune.
But the longer he stayed like that, the less comforted he felt. Bokuto’s chest wasn’t warm like it was that night, his embrace was so distant. Akaashi couldn’t seem to make out a heartbeat either.
Akaashi’s heart started to beat impossibly fast at the realization and he was thrown, once again, back into his memories.
His ear was pressed against Bokuto’s still chest, snow falling delicately on his unresponsive face. He couldn’t make out a heartbeat at all. Akaashi let out a desperate yell into the night, watching the snow fade from white to red underneath his boyfriend’s body. He breathed in and out quickly as his eyes trailed the red spots back to the crushed car beside him. He surrendered to his knees and threaded his hands through his hair.
It had all happened so fast. One moment Bokuto was there smiling brighter than the sun itself, humming happily along to their song. He told Akaashi that he was taking him “somewhere special” for his birthday. Akaashi, failing miserably to hide the smile on his face, had told him that his birthday wasn’t for another couple days. Bokuto simply replied that they’d just be “celebrating early” then. Akaashi might’ve never been happier.
Akaashi couldn't process what was happening until too late. The car came out of nowhere, sliding into their lane from the snow. Bokuto swerved to avoid it, sliding on the icy pavement straight into a telephone pole.
He’d been killed instantly. That didn’t stop Akaashi from dragging him out of the car and holding him until the ambulance arrived though. He remembered thinking about how cold he was — how Bokuto’d never been so cold in his entire life. He’d always refuse jackets, piling them on Akaashi instead. He never slept with anything more than a sheet over him, the rest of the blankets always ended up discarded across the bed, forgotten as he clung close to Akaashi, always giving off more heat than he received from him. He always preferred his tea iced because he claimed hot drinks made him “tired.” Except, his hands never seemed to be affected by the temperature of the drink he was holding; they were always burning hot. He’d always use them to warm Akaashi’s — which were perpetually cold.
Akaashi blinked the scene away and leaned back from Bokuto’s embrace.
“‘Kaashi?” Bokuto asked, pulling away to look Keiji in the eyes. “What’s wrong? You’re crying.”
Akaashi shook his head and wiped his eye with the back of his hand.
“It’s not the same,” he confessed with a laugh that sounded more like a sob. He held onto Bokuto’s hands that were no longer warm, no longer a source of comfort for Akaashi, and he looked back up at Bokuto’s wide eyes. Golden as always, but nowhere near as lively, nowhere near as bright.
“I love you, Bokuto Koutarou,” Akaashi said with a smile so weak he wasn’t sure if it was even visible. “I love you so much it hurts, and I always will. But you’re not here. Not anymore,” he said, shaking his head and letting his hands fall to his sides and stepping back slightly. “It’s breaking my heart but I… I have to let you go, Koutarou.”
“Keiji,” he started but Akaashi shook his head again and squeezed his eyes shut.
When he opened them again, the apartment was empty and cold. Void of Bokuto, void of life once again. Akaashi fell to his knees and gripped the fabric of his pants so tightly, his knuckles turned white. He allowed the silence of the apartment to swallow him and then he let himself grieve. He let the tears fall, finally.