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Loving is not hard. It’s probably the most simple thing a human can do: find beauty in something other than oneself.
For centuries, we’ve looked up at the sky and searched through the clusters of stars that ever so kindly light up our jet black into a cool midnight blue and we assign them the word “beautiful”. We make stories about them in our heads, gracefully giving them a hidden meaning they were never meant to have. It is a wondrous thing, to give something so far out of reach that much significance with so little effort.
The same thing, thinks one Akaashi Keiji, can be applied to Bokuto Kotaro.
Akaashi fact one: Akaashi Keiji is nothing spectacular, and he is sure that everyone else can see that too.
Akaashi fact two: Akaashi Keiji is not emotional, he is logistical. It has been this way as long as he has been alive. He prided himself on being someone who could understand people simply because he would pick apart their patterns of behavior and pluck them back together to understand people better. It was a byproduct of his ingenuity, he thought, being able to understand people’s mannerisms so easily. He found out from a very early age that people are predictable as long as he pays attention (which was something he was quite good at).
Akaashi fact three: even as a young child, Akaashi Keiji was very goal-oriented. He liked volleyball, sure, but he knew deep down that he was never some sort of prodigy. He was okay with that because volleyball was never his life, it was just a game. He enjoyed it of course, but that was it. There was no hidden meaning; it was simply a sport.
Akaashi fact four: Akaashi Keiji does not believe in love at first sight. It’s quite a silly thing, he thinks, to believe that you can love someone without getting to know them. He really doesn’t understand how people can feel something about someone that has no real significance to their own life. He believes that there must be a foundation before true, inexplainable love is guaranteed. Although he had never taken much of an interest in the girls at his school anyway, he couldn’t see how his worldview could be wrong.
These facts were constants for Akaashi Keiji. In his (rather closed-minded) brain, there was no denying any of them. They just were, and they always would be.
So naturally, When Akaashi Keiji met Bokuto Kotaro, Akaashi fact four was the first to go.
The miracle happened in his last year in middle school when he was sure he had seen the brightest star in the sky mere meters before him on a field trip to Fukurodani Academy. Digging deep into his memory, this was the first time he felt starstruck. Body frozen in the presence of something much greater than he ever could be, he silently watched the boy leap up off the ground, mouth slightly agape in complete awe. His eyes followed the boy, watching his spiked-up hair stay completely still no matter how he moved and noting how he was almost flying in mid-air. He was right in front of him and yet he was so far ahead, Akaashi thought, and even if he tried to reach out this boy’s warmth would surely burn his fingertips. The cogs in his brain quietly clicked together, and the only word he could possibly use to describe him idly crossed his mind: Bokuto Kotaro was a “star”.
Akaashi fact four (revised): Akaashi Keiji believes in love at first sight.
Less than one year later, Akaashi Keiji had enrolled at that same academy where he found himself falling in love, setting for that same star that he fell in love with back in junior high. Bokuto was tough to figure out, he had to admit to himself in the beginning, but he was quickly able to piece together the small consistencies of his behaviors: the small ruts he would get into when he felt the weight of his inadequacies come crashing down on him, the way his ego seemed to soar higher than even he could. He had him down to a T.
It took quite a bit of what Akaashi called “character study” to grasp the enigma that was Bokuto Kotaro, but he found that he didn’t mind spending the time (see: Akaashi Fact One). The great thing was that the star often asked Akaashi to stay late for practice (seeing as he was a setter and Bokuto was a wing spiker, it made sense), so he had plenty of opportunities to see him up close.
That being said, it took quite a bit of effort to remind himself not to stare. He liked seeing Bokuto hit the ball with as much power as he did. He also enjoyed listening to how Bokuto would compliment Akaashi after nearly every set.
Akaashi fact five: Akaashi Keiji finds it very hard to say no when Bokuto Kotaro asks him for “just one more set”, despite knowing it will not be just one more set.
He didn’t know that knowing Bokuto would also mean knowing more about himself.
“C’mon, ‘Kaashiiiiii!” Akaashi rolled his eyes at the mispronunciation. “Just one more! It’s barely nighttime!” Whined the owl-haired star that followed Akaashi Keiji to the Fukurodani gym locker rooms like a lost puppy. Maybe Akaashi would have been more willing if he hadn’t started saying “one last set” an hour and a half ago, but the persistence of Bokuto Kotaro is unmatched by any other.
“Bokuto-san, we both have schoolwork to do, if you’ve already forgotten. You can’t forget to do your math work again.” It wasn’t necessarily what Akaashi said but how he said it that gave it just a tang of harshness. Unluckily for Akaashi and his slight passive aggressiveness, Bokuto seemed to thrive with the dramatic. But he knew this, and though he wouldn’t admit it to him, he found it quite humorous.
Bokuto clutched his heart with a closed fist. “Ah-kah-shi!” He sounded it out, yet again mispronouncing his name. They’d known each other long enough that Akaashi was sure he was doing it on purpose. “Don’t be so mean about it!” He huffed. “I can always finish it some other time!”
A small sliver of a smile twitched its way onto Akaashi’s once-blank expression in reaction to Bokuto’s loudness and eccentrics. He couldn’t help it. This was Bokuto after all. There was nothing else to be expected from a star: to be loud, bright, and unapologetic. Nonetheless, he stood his ground. “Bokuto-san, we have practice tomorrow. We can practice spikes again then. Why are you so adamant about tonight?”
Suddenly, the loud, bright, unapologetic star crumbled down a little bit, looking away from Akaashi and shifting his wide gaze to the floor. Akaashi watched him take his hand from his side to scratch the back of his neck, and it confused him a bit. He had never seen Bokuto anything but confident, save for when he had his occasional moments of self-consciousness, but from everything he was seeing now, he had no other conclusion to draw than that Bokuto was nervous.
“I just wanted to stay here with you for a little longer!”
Akaashi felt his heart rate speed up. Despite all of his time spent around Bokuto, it seemed there were still things he didn’t expect out of him. It shocked him to be wrong about someone, to not be able to predict things he was sure he was able to predict.
“...Okay. One more set.”
Akaashi fact two (revised): Akaashi Keiji sometimes lets his emotions get the better of him. Bokuto Kotaro surprises him. He does not fully understand him. He’s not sure he ever will. He is also pretty sure that he is okay with not knowing.
Akaashi’s first year ended too quickly for his liking. It’s not some sort of overdramatic bloodshed of a match, there was no fight to the death like he prepared to. Just the small, almost pin-drop-like sound of the volleyball hitting the ground in front of him after a complete block off of Bokuto. It’s the kind of sound that makes the depressing atmosphere of defeat become that much denser. Akaashi took a deep breath in just to make sure that he still could, but he made a mental promise to himself that he would never feel the silent anguish of a quiet loss again.
He could feel the sweat dripping off his hands as he clenched his fists. Maybe there was something he could’ve done better. Sure, he felt like his sets were alright, but there’s always something that he should’ve done instead. He knew that, somewhere deep inside, no matter what he does for this team, it will never truly be enough. He’s the setter, he runs the offense, and if they lose, the loss is on his hands.
As if a divine spirit had gotten sick of him, breaking up the self-loathing, he remembered: Bokuto got shut out. They won off of a block on Bokuto.
Akaashi whipped his head around so quickly that he was almost sure that he popped something out of its socket. He watched Bokuto take quick, labored breaths in and out, still facing the opposite side of the court. He was tired, sweaty, and overworked. This was their second game that same day, and while Bokuto did have a superhuman amount of stamina in Akaashi’s mind, even stars have their limits.
He wanted to say something, any word to take the heavy grief of a year wasted off of the shoulders of his ace, but the words never found his way up. Wordlessly, his legs began to move towards the locker rooms.
“Akaashi.”
He stopped and turned a bit, just enough to face him. “Yes, Bokuto-san?”
“Practice spikes with me?”
Akaashi met Bokuto’s gaze. He was standing exactly as he was when he had landed from the blocked spike and despite the dim cloud that hung over his words, strangely, Akaashi was sure he had never seen him shine quite this bright.
“Alright.”
Akaashi fact six: Akaashi Keiji does not like to lose. Especially when he’s next to Bokuto Kotaro. It just doesn’t feel right.
On a chilly summer night, Just a few months after the third years of the team were gone and graduated, Akaashi found himself in a small park with none other than his star, Bokuto Kotaro. This was almost routine for them, to meet up late at night and just walk. It was different than the runs they went on for working out, for one they left Akaashi a lot less out of breath, and for two, they were a lot more personal. Intimate, Akaashi thought, intimate was a good way to describe these walks. When it was just him, his star, and the light from the moon dimly shining down on them.
He had gotten more comfortable with his crush, he found. Some self-restraint was learned when it came to the stares from across the gymnasium, containing them in three-second intervals so no one would notice. Not that it was an easy thing to learn, because no matter how hard he practiced, Bokuto’s aura seemed to disrupt any thought process he had, and he instantaneously became lost in the golden seas of Bokuto’s eyes that left him struggling in the tide. Some days were more of a struggle than others, and wow, his eyes looked beautiful in the moonlight. He did care about what he was saying, but how was it Akaashi’s fault that sometimes Bokuto made it so hard to focus?
“Akaashi!” Loudly and without warning, he was forcefully ripped out of his Bokuto-induced trance by none other than Bokuto himself. “Are you even listening?!”
“Hm? Ah, apologies, Bokuto-san. I got lost in thought,” he replied and looked up towards the moon, the nagging feeling of eyes locked onto his making his cheeks glow a bit more red than they had been a few seconds ago.
“Oh? What’re you thinkin’ about?”
Akaashi looked down from the moon and instead focused on the pitch black dark of the scenery surrounding him. It was nothing, really, just romantic feelings. It’s not like he would ever tell Bokuto how he felt anyway. There was no reason to. Though getting redundant, Bokuto was a star, and what was Akaashi in comparison? Compared to someone of that magnitude, he was simply an asteroid orbiting its course around him until he ultimately faded, having made the most of the energy received while it could. A little fact about stars is that when they’re close by, they’re extremely hard to look at, even blinding. Bokuto was no exception. Akaashi was not enough of a fool to blind himself swimming with the stars. He was already treading on flying too close.
So in response to Bokuto, he answered, “Nothing.”
He hunched over a little bit. “Hm.”
“What were you trying to tell me earlier?”
Bokuto’s head perked up a little bit, the little natural glint of light returning to his eyes. “Oh, yeah! ‘Kaashi, I’ve got something to ask you!”
Akaashi smiled. “I’m listening, Bokuto-san.”
“Well, y’know how I’m gonna be captain next season, right? Well, I was thinking, I’m gonna need a vice-captain! And you’re so smart, ‘Kaashi, so I thought I’d ask you!” His face was gleaming a bright red, something Akaashi could make out perfectly even with just the pale moonlight and his sort-of-shitty vision.
He was getting too close to the stars. His wax wings were going to melt, and Icarus-Akaashi was going to burn and fall. He could feel it, the warmth of the boy in front of him starting to burn his fingertips. He looked him in the eye for a moment, and, just like the redness of his face, the golden spots in his eyes didn’t shy away from the dim light. It’s encapsulating, mesmerizing, he couldn’t seem to look away. So this is what it’s like to be trapped, he thought to himself. He wanted desperately to look away, to save himself the burn scars and bandages, to save himself from years of trying and failing to keep up. But, blinded by the beauty of the star he was fixated on, he saw no escape in sight.
“So, will you be my vice-captain?” Bokuto asked again, the slightest bit of hesitation– no– fear, laced his voice with every word.
Akaashi let himself burn in the fiery surface of the stars. Just this once, he allowed himself to be selfish.
“Okay.”
Akaashi fact seven: In Akaashi Keiji’s second year of high school, he is Bokuto Kotaro’s vice-captain. It almost comes as easy to him as loving him does.
Second-year, vice-captain volleyball was much more exciting for Akaashi than he expected. Of course, his first year was something he was incredibly proud of, but he would be lying if he said he enjoyed it more than his second. Every night was filled with spiking practices, testing his limits of how close his wax wings could get him, allowing his fingertips to accumulate burn after burn just to feel the warmth of the sun.
It feels good to be a little selfish now and then, he realized somewhere along the way. He wasn’t exactly sure what to make of it sometimes, letting himself get carried away in games, letting his staring at Bokuto linger for a few seconds more than it should’ve. Small little subtleties that no doubt got some attention from his teammates. If he were anyone else, quite literally anyone not named Akaashi Keiji, this would be normal. But his teammates knew Akaashi, and they knew how he operated, and they noticed the little burn marks on his fingers, and the little stares when Bokuto lept into the air. He heard the whispers from Konoha to Komi and the little chuckles that ensued afterward. He couldn’t bring himself to care.
Getting to the spring tournament wasn’t all that hard, in selfish-Akaashi’s opinion. At least, not for their powerhouse of a team. Everyone on the team was insanely solid, and, to be completely honest, they chewed through their competition. The occasional loss was met with intense practice to polish mistakes (practices that even Bokuto would sometimes complain about), and then they would go out and try again. Selfish-Akaashi loved this routine. He was always a bit of a sucker for routine, he found it helped him keep calm.
But Akaashi was always pretty much calm. He was always reliable because he forced himself to be. Being selfish didn’t make him a star and he knew that, so Akaashi Keiji would never act like a star. He was no Kageyama Tobio, no Miya Atsumu, and he knew that all too well. Just because he allowed his selfish tendencies to take over when it came to mingling with stars didn’t mean he felt as though he belonged with them. He was an imposter in his friendships and he knew it. Especially when it came to him and Bokuto.
Oh, Bokuto Kotaro. Akaashi Keiji’s brightest star in the cold, dark, unforgiving night sky. Unfortunately, Akaashi’s second year did not bring an end to the love he felt for his wing spiker, much to his dismay. Quite the opposite. He found himself pushing himself harder, doing anything he could to bring out the best of Bokuto that he possibly could, just to be a little bit more selfish. Anything to get one more beautiful, fantastical moment out of him. It’s all he wanted to do.
So why, in the middle of one of the biggest matches of the spring tournament, did Akaashi Keiji feel his arms start to get tired of carrying the same weight he had been carrying all season? His mind started to drift, to overthink about himself, allowing himself to focus on unimportant insecurities. Although he may have let himself dwell over selfish ideologies like this in private, he had never, ever let himself waver during a match. No volleyball player can remain unfalteringly consistent throughout their entire career, but Akaashi Keiji was determined to be pretty damn close.
So why was he failing?
Watching his team adapt without him just as quickly as he was subbed out was a wake-up call for Akaashi Keiji. He was being too selfish. He was unapologetically swimming with the stars and letting himself become blind, and now his burned hands could no longer support the weight of his insecurities. But the game goes on with a first-year setter, and Akaashi watches his team do completely fine without him. How could he have allowed himself to think that he was significant enough to affect the outcome of the game? How selfish of Akaashi Keiji.
Fukurodani won the match against Mujinazaka, and Akaashi played well in all sets except for the first one, so why does he find himself sulking all alone, sitting on a bench right next to the locker room? Maybe it’s just reflection, he found that he often liked to sit back and think about things that just happened when something didn’t go the way he wanted it to. Or maybe it’s more because the deafening silence from his thoughts practically muted the sound of Bokuto walking over and sitting next to him.
He offered some nearly soul-crushing advice, but it was needed.
“You were totally flailing like a rookie at the start!”
“I allowed myself to get distracted by unnecessary thoughts.”
“You know what did it? Great! You’ll be fine then. Now you know how to fix it next time.”
He was right. Akaashi couldn’t explain why, but it stung and comforted him both at the same time.
“Yes…!”
Maybe there wasn’t that much space between Akaashi Keiji and the stars, because there was one teaching him his own lessons right then. He didn’t know how to react but to reiterate them, and the star in front of him simply listened. It was nice.
The star smiled at the rest of the team. “Okay!! Tomorrow’s the day, guys! Tomorrow we are gonna dig on every spike and score on every hit!”
“Every one of them is-”
But the star interjected, “Aha, there it is! I knew you’d say that, Akaashi! But guess what!”
Akaashi tilted his head a little bit, puzzled.
“It’s not “impossible”, it’s just “hard”!” The star rebutted, a big goofy grin on his face as Akaashi stared at him in awe.
Akaashi fact three (revised): Volleyball has shaped Akaashi Keiji’s life forever. It may be the second most important thing in his high school career.
The summer before Akaashi’s third year sucked, in his words. Having to watch his friends graduate before his very eyes was something that he really did not expect to cry about. But late that night, sitting in Bokuto Kotaro’s bedroom, he found himself unable to hold the tears back anymore as he unwrapped a small book that Bokuto had given him just a few minutes before. It was a nice leather book, and there was a picture of the entire team from the season before taped nicely onto the front. Inches below the photo were the words “FOR AKAASHI”, and in a smaller font under that the words read “so you don’t forget us!!!” Ever so gently, he traced his finger along the edges, opening the scrapbook and examining every word and picture with as much attention to detail as he could. He hardly noticed the biting of his bottom lip, desperate to swallow the lump in his throat.
“So, um, what do you think?” Bokuto asked sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck. “I figured since I’m goin’ to school and I’ll be busy I’d give you something you can look back on whenever you miss m– us! And I’ll pick up whenever you call anyway, but I know you get quiet sometimes, ‘Kaashi!”
As if snapped out of a daze, Akaashi picked up his arm and brought it to his eyes, the quiet, muffled sound of crying escaping him in place of a proper response. Even if he wanted to, his heart seemed to rebel against his head, choosing to pour out his emotions in the crook of his neck with soft sobs instead of gentle words. He was not embarrassed to be crying in front of Bokuto, it would be foolish to attempt to hide the mourning that accompanied him in Bokuto’s eventual absence from his everyday life. No, it was more so the embarrassment that came with crying over something so trivial such as a scrapbook.
“You okay, Akaashi?”
Akaashi quietly lifted his head and hugged the book to his chest, locking eyes with Bokuto. He wants to say how he’ll miss him so much, how he wishes he didn’t have to go away to college but he knows how selfish it would be of him to ask Bokuto to stay. He wants to be selfish, to tell Bokuto not to leave and to stay with him. He wants one more year of thinking of himself.
He took a small breath in, wiping away a few stray tears. “It’s perfect. Thank you Bokuto-san.”
(Truth be told, it might be one of the most beautiful gifts Akaashi has ever been given. He’s not exactly sure how Bokuto can consistently outdo himself with ease.)
Akaashi fact eight: Akaashi Keiji does not want Bokuto Kotaro to leave.
If he had to choose a word to describe the duration of the summer before Bokuto left, Akaashi would choose “bittersweet”. Sure, there were plenty of great moments, and he did spend a hefty amount of his spare time with Bokuto, whether it had been endless hours of setting for the owl or simple talks sat down in a restaurant. And it was nice. Akaashi enjoyed spending time with Bokuto, just as he always had. Bokuto didn’t have an off switch, Akaashi noted a while back, so if he remained uninterrupted, he would talk the whole time. This was true with anyone not named Akaashi Keiji. If the silence that rang from Akaashi’s (lack of) words trickled Bokuto’s brain even the slightest, he immediately quit his ranting and asked Akaashi either A. about his day or B. what was wrong. He let himself wonder why he was different.
It was almost as if they had some sort of unspoken routine all summer. Bokuto would just so happen to stop by Akaashi’s house in the mornings on his early runs and ask him to join him, which Akaashi would accept. The owl would sit in Akaashi’s living room (doing God knows what) while he waited, and promptly run out the door as soon as Akaashi had his workout attire on. The rest of the day was up for them to decide, whether it be simple or complex or even something entirely stupid pretty much relied on Bokuto’s mood of the day. Whatever it was, Akaashi was more than willing to join along (despite whatever initial gripes he may have had when the ideas were formed). And it seemed to him that Bokuto would only want to do something if Akaashi were there with him to do it, claiming some trivial detail that Akaashi really could care less about. He was just happy to spend the time.
But there was a deep sadness behind every interaction, the quiet yet unmistakable mark of unsettling grief drifting upon them, like the creeping winds before an inexorable storm. No matter what exactly they were doing, there was always a faint whisper in the back of Akaashi's mind, a reminder that things would change soon. When he looked into Bokuto's eyes, he thought he heard that same whisper for him too. The undeniable, crushing feeling of loss followed them no matter where they went. It lingered on the tip of Akaashi’s tongue whenever he opened his mouth to speak, but the potential consequences left him speechless.
So when he and Bokuto were sitting side by side on a park bench just a week before he had to leave, Akaashi was certain he would muster up the strength to bring it up. Yeah, it would suck, but he had to–
“Y’know, ‘Kaashi, I’ve been thinkin’. What if I stay in town and play for a local team instead of leaving?” Bokuto blurted out, taking a bite of the onigiri in his hands. “Wow! This is pretty good!”
What?
Akaashi nearly choked on his spit. “What’d you say, Bokuto-san?”
Bokuto’s face turned a bright shade of red, not being aided by the bright glare of the sun beaming down on it. “Well, I was just thinkin’, y’know, instead of going to college I could stay here for another year and try out for a team here, then try out for a pro team next year!”
Akaashi blinked. This was all that he was hoping for. It was another chance to be selfish, but now the opportunity was tossed into his lap like it meant nothing at all. But still–.
“Why?” He asked. It was the only thing on his mind that meant anything of substance at the moment.
Bokuto smiled a little bit. “To spend more time with you!”
Akaashi fact eight (revised): Akaashi Keiji REALLY does not want Bokuto Kotaro to leave.
There it was. This was exactly what Akaashi had been waiting for this whole time, for Bokuto to choose him. He felt his heart do somersaults in his chest, the loud thumping of it clouding his hearing from anything else in the world. He didn’t know if his face had changed color, but he was sure that even if it hadn’t his expression had given away just how flustered he truly was. There was no hiding things from Bokuto, after all. He looked Bokuto in the eyes – his Bokuto, his star – and watched Bokuto’s focus shift from something in the far distance back to Akaashi. And he yearned so desperately to reach out to him, to cup his face with his own hands, to be even more selfish than he had been up until then. He wanted to bask in the light of his own personal star, to wrap himself head to toe in bandages for burns. He wanted to put his selfish nature on display and show the whole world that his star had chosen him.
But he couldn’t do that.
“Bokuto-san, you can’t stay here.” He felt like he was going to vomit, but the words poured out of his mouth no matter how much he wanted to hold them in.
The owl looked at Akaashi, his expression dropping a little bit. “What? But, Akaashi–.”
“Bokuto-san. You’re going to get a much better opportunity in life if you go to college. You can’t just stay here because you want to talk to me more. I can’t let you stay back and not take advantage of every chance you are given.”
“Akaashi, I don’t want to be anywhere without–.”
He couldn’t shut up. God, he’s pretty sure he’s never spoken this much in his life. The thoughts kept bubbling out of his mouth so fast he could hardly notice the tears welling up in his eyes. “You’re going to go to college and you’re going to graduate with at least an associate degree and then you’re going to go to the professional leagues because they’re going to see just how bright of a star you are, Kotaro.”
The tears were flooding Akaashi’s eyes to the point that Bokuto looked like a blurry mess to him now and the tears stung from how quickly they rushed down his cheeks and onto his lap, but he didn’t care. He was finally letting go.
“But what am I gonna do without you?” Bokuto tried quietly, his shoulders sagging so far forward that Akaashi thought they might hit his knees (he really couldn’t see well with all the tears).
Gently wiping his eyes, he looked towards his star. “You’re going to shine, Bokuto-san.”
Akaashi fact eight (re-revised): Akaashi Keiji knows that sometimes you have to let something go if you really love it. Akaashi Keiji also really wishes it weren’t true.
Big-city-Bokuto really wasn’t as bad as Akaashi was thinking it would be. The late nights in the summer where it was just him, the moon, and his thoughts had really prepared him for the worst, but Bokuto was never too far. At six A.M. every day, Akaashi woke up to a good morning text from the owl, and the chats were nonstop until ten P.M. when he would drift off to sleep. If anything, they (somehow) spoke even more now than they did before.
That doesn’t quite stop the ache in his stomach when he puts on his Fukurodani volleyball jersey, or when the new first-years call him “captain” instead of his name. Or when he accidentally wakes up too early for his morning runs and finds himself waiting for someone who’s hundreds of miles away. Sure, he leaves voicemails about how his days going when Bokuto is too busy to answer, and Bokuto always sends detailed texts with his response to each and every point, but he would be lying if he said he didn’t miss the way Bokuto would put his arm around him when he was feeling extra self-confident. Or the way he would look at Akaashi every single time he did something that he considered to be cool. Or even just the way he would look at him.
That’s when Akaashi realized: he was mourning a relationship. Not just that, he was mourning a relationship that A. never ended and B. never started. He wondered just how stupid he truly sounded.
And then on a sunny Friday afternoon, Akaashi Keiji got a video call.
“Heyyy Akaashiiiiiiiiii!” Yelled one Bokuto Kotaro, his big goofy grin taking up half of Akaashi’s screen.
“Hello, Bokuto-san. You seem energized today.” He offered him a warm smile through the phone. “What has you so chipper?”
“Well–.” But Bokuto was quickly cut off by the sound of a muffled voice politely asking if he could quiet down, to which he simply nodded in return. With a slight raise of an eyebrow, Akaashi finally took in the background of the call: a fuzzy, blue-ish seat and a white-ish, grayish background. He was sure he could see part of a window.
“Bokuto-san, are you coming to visit?”
“Ha-ha! Nothing gets past you ‘Kaashi! You’re such a smart guy!” Bokuto beamed through the small lens of his camera, which (rather embarrassingly) made the tiniest bit of blush creep its way onto Akaashi’s cheeks.
He swiftly put his phone down and rustled his shoes onto his feet, barely having enough patience to slip them over his heels before grabbing at his phone again and rushing out the door. He felt the warm summer winds hit his face within seconds, but he didn’t really mind it at all. He had more pressing matters.
“Next time you come, I’m making you tell me in advance. I can’t rush to the train station at the drop of a hat, you know. I have things to take care of, Bokuto-san.”
“Well, you’re doing it now!” Bokuto teased. A rather rude rebuttal (but not necessarily wrong). “Besides I could’a walked to your house myself, Akaashi! I was just too excited to keep it a secret anymore!”
But that doesn’t slow down Akaashi’s pace in the slightest. He’s in a footrace with himself to get to this damned train station, to get to the person he’s missed most in the world, and he will not lose. He can feel his selfishness bubbling up like a pot of boiling water, filled too high and dangerously closing in on overflowing. He can’t help himself anymore, and how is it his fault, really? He was given just a taste, just a small glimpse of sunlight just before Bokuto had left, and now he’s back (even if just for a weekend), and all he wants is a tight hug. And maybe a run. And maybe to throw him some tosses for him to hit. And maybe to listen to him talk about anything, literally anything, as long as it’s in person.
“Whoop! Trains stopping, I’ll see ya in a few, byeee!” He watched Bokuto fiddle with the “end call” button on the other line, and then listened to the quick, quiet sound of the face call closing run through his ear.
Akaashi ran faster.
Akaashi fact nine: Akaashi Keiji is not a great runner, but he is more than willing to overwork himself for a little if there is something that he wants.
Unfortunately, Akaashi Keiji did not get to the train station on time.
Fortunately, it didn’t really bother him.
Half a block away from the train station, a slightly sweaty and out-of-breath Akaashi was swiftly pummeled to the grass by what felt like the most forceful obstacle he had ever encountered, but he was quickly relieved when he felt the comforting squeeze of arms wrapped around him. As quickly as he hit the ground he was already returning the (totally friendly and platonic) embrace, burying his head into his friends shoulder. He was sure his just-washed clothes were now stained with the green color of the freshly cut grass, but he was more focused on the star in front of him. He allowed himself to blind himself in his star, to cut off his vision from the rest of the world and focus on the comfortable sweater Bokuto had on, the vanilla-y citrus-y scent of his cologne, and the agonizing yet riveting thought that this was their first time seeing each other in at least a month.
It took a few moments for either of them to break the silence (Akaashi was sure it was because neither of them really wanted to), but out of breath and completely in shock, all Akaashi could muster out was, “Bokuto-san, you’re here.”
“Yep! Sorry for tackling ya, ‘Kaashi.” Bokuto lightly let go of Akaashi so that they could lay face-to-face in the cold, damp grass.
A slim smile etched itself onto Akaashi’s face as he looked Bokuto in the eye for the first time in a month. They were glowing golden in the sunlight, basking in the warmth and reflecting it onto Akaashi as he stared. He looked the same, something that Akaashi really should’ve expected, but the passing time was something that he seemed to have overestimated, and he was glad his anxieties had been proven wrong yet again.
“You’re all sweaty!” Bokuto pointed out with a hefty laugh. “Did you stretch at all before you started running?!”
“No, Bokuto-san. I didn’t have time because you called me when you were already on your way,” Akaashi lightly scowled at him, although he wasn’t really upset. He couldn’t be even if he wanted to. He was sure his face conveyed the same thing.
“Ah-kah-shiiii!” Bokuto whined, bringing his arms up to his chest and crossing them, which suddenly reminded Akaashi that they were, in fact, laying in the dirty grass, so he gently picked himself up, sitting up straight.
“Next time you hug me, Bokuto-san, please give me some strength to remain upright.” Akaashi sighed and smiled at Bokuto. “But I suppose that can wait. What do you want to do while you’re visiting?”
His eyes lit up in response, a sight that Akaashi had missed an extreme amount. He adored the way Bokuto somehow seemed to gain even more energy when someone mentioned something he was clearly excited about (ex. volleyball, spiking, looking cool, Akaashi). He loved seeing Bokuto in top form, whether that be on the volleyball court or on a warm day in the transition between Summer and Autumn, sitting on the damp grass in the beaming sunlight.
“I planned some stuff for us to do if you’re not busy! I’ve got a whooole itinerary!” He grinned at his use of the word “itinerary”. It almost made Akaashi chuckle. “OOH! You reminded me! I got you something!”
Akaashi sputtered, “You… huh?” Collecting his composure, he put his hands in his lap. “Bokuto-san, you did not have to get me anything. I would’ve been perfectly happy with just your company. You should be saving your money, you’re in college now.”
“I knooow, I knoooow,” Bokuto smiled and lifted himself up off the ground, wiping the grass and dirt off of his clothes. “I just thought I should get something for my favorite setter if its been this long! Ya know, college volleyball is fun, but I really missed your sets! Hey, we should get some snacks and play some volleyball! I know you like onigiri! My treat!”
Bokuto Kotaro was the only person to make Akaashi Keiji feel like this, like the world could be ablaze around him but he wouldn’t notice. It was a gift and a curse, to find someone so loving and caring that, in just a few words, nobody else in the world matters. Akaashi once thought that Bokuto had been something so far away, so far from his reach, but right now he gazed upon Bokuto’s hand reaching out for his. He came to a conclusion: he was wrong.
Maybe the stars aren’t something so far from Akaashi’s touch, he thought, extending his hand to reach Bokuto’s, letting the boy gently pull him up off of the ground. Maybe he wasn’t just an asteroid orbiting a star.
“Okay, Bokuto-san.” He took a deep breath in.
“I still have to give you your gift, ‘Kaashi!”
“I suppose it would be rude of me not to accept your gift because you already bought it. What did you get?”
Bokuto lightly laughed and started to dig around in his satchel, pulling out a small silver gift bag. Akaashi noted the little white bow on the handle, and a small note card that read “TO: AKAASHI” accompanied by a little scribble of a volleyball. He dimmed his smile down smaller and took the bag graciously, peering inside while gently moving the crammed tissue paper out of the way.
Inside sat two small plushes, one brown owl with white highlights, and another, slightly puffier owl plush with white feathers and golden eyes. Even though they were just stuffed animals, Akaashi noticed how close they sat together in the little bag, side by side, simply enjoying the comfort of sitting next to each other. He moved his hand down and picked them up, careful not to separate them. He dare not move one an inch away from the warmth of the other, as if they were real little owls sitting in a plastic bag.
“See look, it’s us!” Bokuto gleamed, his joy radiating with every breath he took. Akaashi looked up from the little owls and blinded himself in the brightness that was the joy of Bokuto Kotaro.
His smile became tanged with a little bit more amusement. “It’s us.”
Akaashi fact ten: Akaashi Keiji is in love with Bokuto Kotaro.
Akaashi found out very quickly that he was willing to do any small activity they could do to stay together. They were once again attached at the hip, the whole world seeing to cease to exist the second they stopped paying attention to it, something they often did when they were together. Sometimes the world was complicated for Akaashi, and other times it was setting a perfect toss to Bokuto Kotaro in front of a park volleyball net, watching him spike the ball down with a stupid grin on his face. Loving the rush it gave him was just as easy as missing it as if it were some sort of addiction. He could feel the adrenaline rush through his veins, the dopamine coursing through his body, and everything just felt light.
He played at school of course, but it was never the same with anyone who wasn’t Bokuto. He just liked the feeling he had when Bokuto was soaring through the air, eager and ready to hit a set that he knew was coming to him. He wanted to do this forever, wanted to feel the abrupt surface of the ball against his fingertips and just as nimbly feel its absence, just to hear the WHACK of it hitting the court. He wanted to look up and see Bokuto smiling at him, another spew of compliments coming his way. He missed the selfishness that came with knowing Bokuto, the feeling of wanting something for himself.
But there it was, right in front of him yet again. He could feel the air being taken from his lungs with each kill. Something he missed every day since Bokuto’s absence.
But the warm August day turned into a cool night quicker than the two of them anticipated, and just as quickly as they stepped up to the volleyball net, they took their things to Akaashi’s house. It wasn’t a far walk and Akaashi was quite strong (he is an athlete, after all), but after the fourth time Bokuto insisted that he should carry Akaashi’s things for him (which consisted of two stuffed animals), Akaashi was too tired to deny him. His heart fluttered when he saw the proud look on Bokuto’s face, arms full of his own items, and Akaashi’s one little gift bag.
He wanted to stay like this forever, to etch the mental image of him sitting on his bed and watching Bokuto look for the perfect place to sit the little owls down. There’s a word for someone like Bokuto, “conscientious,” Akaashi thinks. Contrary to popular belief, Bokuto Kotaro thinks a lot, something Akaashi knows all too well. If Akaashi’s brain runs at a hundred miles a minute, he wonders how quickly Bokuto’s works. They were both chronic overthinkers, they just expressed it differently. Bokuto was a lot more external with his emotions, and Akaashi tended to keep everything in, bottling it somewhere far deep in his mind.
“We should practice spikes again tomorrow, ‘Kaashi,” Bokuto commented, his eyes scanning the room.
“Maybe after dinner.”
He watched as Bokuto placed the owls down on a little desk at the corner of the room. He inspected it, looking over every textbook and stray piece of paper, until his eyes fixated on a small, leather book sitting above the rest. His fingers gently dragged over the team picture, a soft smile spreading across his face.
It made Akaashi think. “Do you ever miss our team last year, Bokuto-san?” It was almost an uncomfortable ask, and it nearly felt invasive. Immediately after the words leave his mouth, he’s already itching to bring them back in. He was not sure why.
“Of course I do!” Bokuto bellowed as if he hadn’t had to think about it at all. Or, rather, it was something he had thought about quite often. Akaashi wasn’t quite sure which option was true. “That was a fun team! Man, I miss being a team captain. But I know you’re doing great now! You pretty much were the captain last year too!”
“I always assumed I was selfish for wanting one more year with you,” Akaashi murmured, letting his head fall back onto his pillow.
He felt the weight of the bed shift and heard the gentle fall of someone’s head suddenly resting next to his. “It’s fine to be selfish. Heck, I’m selfish all the time!” Bokuto’s voice echoed through the walls of Akaashi’s room. “Like when I would tell you to send the ball to me, or today how I showed up with no warning. Being selfish isn’t always “bad”, ‘Kaashi. You’re too hard on yourself!”
In just a few simple, short sentences, Akaashi’s worldview had come crashing down on him. Had he truly been too hard on himself? Bokuto was always good at reading him, he knew what to say when Akaashi didn’t, and it was weird. He never really did understand Bokuto. He never knew how he knew what to say to him (see: Akaashi fact three). It was a weird thing, to be known like that by someone. It was an uncertain mix of discomfort and familiarity that left Akaashi with a pit in his stomach. He never realized how badly he wanted something like this. How he wanted someone to tell him that it was okay to think about what he wanted now and then.
He felt his feelings rise to his chest as if they were simply bits of air flowing in and out of his lungs. This is how easy it is, Akaashi thought, to love Bokuto Kotaro. It’s as simple as breathing. He doesn’t have to think about it, he doesn’t have to do it on purpose, it’s just something he does. It’s something he always will be doing, consciously, like when he invites him over to his house on a late night in August, or subconsciously, looking up at the constellations in the night sky. Loving Bokuto is Akaashi’s breathing in and out, it’s his lungs contracting, it’s his heart beating, it’s all the things he does and doesn’t think about.
“You mean that?” Akaashi asked, fiddling with his fingers.
“‘Course I do! You think too much. If anything, I’m more selfish than you are!” Bokuto chuckled a little bit, still investigating Akaashi’s room as if he hadn’t been there dozens of times before.
He took a deep breath in. “Bokuto-san, I have to tell you so–.”
“I love you, Keiji,” his voice rang softly like the quiet trills of the night atmosphere. Akaashi locked eyes with him, and his sweet, golden eyes stared lovingly back into his.
And really, it’s the way he said it that has Akaashi speechless. He said it like it’s nothing, like it’s just a fact that he’s known for his whole life. He said it like it comes as easily to him as breathing, that he loves him like his heart beats, or like his lungs contract. He said it like it was something so simple to him, so easy, that it made Akaashi think that maybe it really was that easy to love him.
“You love me?” He repeated as if those were the only words he knew.
“Mhm.”
It’s ironic how surprised he was, because truth be told, he was just moments away from confessing to Bokuto himself. How can Akaashi Keiji, who was planned for almost anything, lose all of the words from his mind because of a simple statement? Three simple words had turned the articulate, thoughtful Akaashi into a mute man. For some odd reason, although he knew that he liked Bokuto, the thought that Bokuto could reciprocate those feelings simply never crossed his mind in a way that really clocked him as a realistic feeling. All thoughts he had of Bokuto were that of an ideation, a sweet dream saved for Akaashi when he was alone, for his thoughts only. He never expected them to be real.
He searched his brain for a response, anything that could possibly describe the feelings he had. Unfortunately, his natural poeticism had been disabled, and there were no particular words that had any significance to him at the top of his head. He was speechless.
Save for one word: “Why?”
“Why?” Bokuto repeated, and with the quick motion of his hand sliding under his own chin, he looked up at the ceiling, in thought.
Akaashi waited.
“Well, I’m not as good with words as you. But you’re thoughtful, and you’re kind to me, and you’re so smart. I always loved ya’, Akaashi, since day one.” He held up a little one with his finger, a small smile suddenly flashing across his face. “Man, I wish I were as well-spoken as you! I would’ve wrote you a thousand poems!”
“You love me?” Akaashi emphasized, sitting up in his bed the slightest. His body felt like a feather and a million pounds at the same exact time. He partly thought he was going to throw up.
“You okay, ‘Kaashi–?”
“Can I kiss you, Kotaro?” His breath is shaky, as if those words that were at the tip of his tongue for years were finally given permission to spill out.
“Yes,” he answered immediately.
Akaashi couldn’t hold himself back anymore, he cupped his hands around Bokuto’s face and pulled him in close for a soft, gentle kiss. It’s no grand gesture, no long poem read on a moonlit night, but a small, sweet response to a confession. One that struck Bokuto more than any long winded paragraph could. And Akaashi knows this, as much as an overthinker as he may be, because (although he will never stopped being surprised by him), Akaashi has studied Bokuto for years. So when he pulls apart, theres a small, sweet smile on his face that wasn’t there before.
“You love me?” Bokuto asks, almost as if he couldn’t believe it. How absurd.
“I do,” Akaashi replied.
Bokuto looked at him, and all of the stars in the sky couldn’t match the light that beamed into Akaashi’s eyes. “You’re amazing, Keiji.”
Maybe Akaashi isn’t a simple asteroid, following it’s path around the orbit of a star. Maybe things aren’t exactly as straightforward as they seem. Maybe he and Bokuto don’t follow the laws of science he previously deemed as fact. Maybe he orbits Bokuto, and maybe Bokuto orbits him, like the dwarf planet Pluto and it’s moon, Charon. Maybe, just maybe, he was meant to swim with the stars, to bask in the blinding light they emit.
His face flushed a bright shade of red. “Thank you.”
Unfortunately, Bokuto’s visit ends with another train ride back home, but it also ends with a quick kiss and a “see you soon,” something that Akaashi could’ve never expected. He watched his star, his Bokuto Kotaro, wave at him through the train window as the wheels slowly picked up speed, chugging away from the station. He smiled to himself and brushed off his new, oversized, comfortable sweater, making his way back to his house, his phone in his pocket pinging with a million new opportunities to talk to Bokuto with every step he took. For once in his life, his mind was clear of negligent thoughts, and he stared up at the sky above him, basking in the last of the warm Summer sun, knowing fully well that soon enough he would have that warmth come home to him. And as he settled back into his home, he flipped through the pages of the leather scrapbook given to him by his silly owl boyfriend, writing his own little notes next to the sloppy handwriting accompanying the pictures.
Akaashi fact one (revised): Bokuto Kotaro thinks Akaashi Keiji is amazing. Akaashi Keiji doesn’t think he is so bad either.