Work Text:
Part One – Prelude
You believe there’s a heaven when a person like Kotaro Bokuto exists.
There are aspects of childhood that are lost to time. You get hurt, the world betrays you, you suffer your first love and heartbreak, you grow up. Those little bits like crying so openly when you get hurt, how angry you feel when a friend turns out to not be friendly anymore. How wholeheartedly the love in your heart is embraced and felt and needed and scary and how much more it strikes and bleeds when broken; Growing up.
I’d heard of an American idea of “protecting your inner child” and realized that Kotaro not only protected that inner child but fostered that child—embraced him and showed him the world. Wide-eyed, Bokuto has never hesitated or done anything without confidence. He’s the kind of person to openly take on the burden of the world and express it when he feels it. It’s childish… but it’s easy to know him when he’s predictable like that.
It’s why in high school I told him I loved him for the first time. I was just seventeen, he was going off to college to continue playing volleyball. I couldn’t hold back anymore so I told him. He embraced my love from that day on, just like a child. Now I get to watch him wake up, I get to come home to him. I got to live the rest of my life with him.
I am going to heaven soon but if there’s a chance that I could wait at heaven’s gate a little longer so we could go together, I would. I wonder if God will make an exception. Not for me. But for him.
All my love for you,
Akaashi Keiji
“The great mystery of love: Not a mystery at all. To know what love is and isn’t, what it could be and should be, to love in the big ways and the little ways as peeling oranges. How to do it, be it, and give it away to someone, anyone, and everyone—to look in the mirror and love the person staring back at you all the same. For what it’s worth, many do not ever completely understand love. But in this life, I did. For him.”
Kotaro stood in front of so many familiar faces. A sea of black attire and tender eyes on an appropriately gloomy day. This day was coming. He had never felt so heavy and untethered.
“Keiji once read to me a quote that said, ‘I killed a plant once because I gave it too much water. Lord, I worry that love is violence.’ And he scoffed at this idea. He said, ‘If you killed the plant, it was because you did not know how to care for it in the first place. Love can hurt, love can be misplaced but it is never violent.’” Bokuto smiled a bit before saying, “Akaashi said they should buy a basil plant if they wanted to water it so damn bad.”
In the crowd, the wrinkled, sly face of Kenma Kozume laughed. Next to him, his husband Tetsuro Kuroo whose jet-black hair had turned silver but still grew unruly as always.
”I thought about this for years,” Kotaro said. “I didn’t quite understand the quote or what he meant. But I think I do now.”
After the funeral was over, he found himself at a table with Kuroo and Kenma.
“A fish,” Kenma started. “That person should have gotten a fish. Then their so-called love would have been perfect.”
“You actually can overwater a fish, though.” Kuroo corrected.
Kenma sighed a sigh that knew all too well the collected years of Kuroo’s bullshit. “Is there anything you can’t overwater? Pretend I said that.”
Kuroo patted a withered hand over Kenma’s. Kotaro’s heart ached at the sight but then his eye caught the lively body of Atsumu Miya. Though he was an old man, it seemed he was spry enough to get around well. Bokuto stood and embraced his former teammate and lifelong friend. “It’s good to see you.” Kotaro said quietly.
Atsumu patted him on the back a few times and said, “Lifelong love. That’s something.”
“It was everything,” Kotaro said. “It felt like I was soaring higher and higher like a kite in the sky. Now I feel a little lost to the wind.”
“If the heaven Keiji believed in is real, being in the sky ain’t so bad. It’s almost as if once you get to the clouds, you’ll be back with him.” Atsumu said. The comfort in those words were at odds with the usual sentiments Bokuto had heard that day but they soothed Bokuto’s tired heart.
Truthfully, he hadn’t really grieved the loss. It had been over seventy years of knowing Keiji. In the first few years of being married, Kotaro was still playing volleyball so there were gaps in time where they were apart. Sometimes, Keiji would come with him. On those trips he would write and Bokuto would be the first reader of his works. As a novelist, Keiji’s stories and books grew in popularity but also cemented his name in literary conversations around the world.
His final work, Flight of the Owls , was a story about him and Kotaro. Kotaro knew each page cover to cover and remembered the nights when Keiji worked on it. Perhaps he knew it was his last novel because there was a glow about him that Kotaro found to be endearing. It had been quite some time since his last published book so this work was anticipated greatly by his fans. Those days, Kotaro was completely retired from volleyball and no longer spent time in the limelight. Maybe he knew too that these were the last years he had with Keiji.
Kotaro read Flight of the Owls one last time and the grief weighed on him greatly–he felt the loss of his life deep in his soul. If he could just sink into the ground to be with Keiji again he would in a heartbeat. Tears slipped from his eyes and onto the pages and he breathed his last.
Part Two – You Know Me
”Akaashi,” Kuroo began, “How’s your new trainee?”
Akaashi gave Kuroo a blank stare. The new trainee, Bokuto Kotaro, had completed his onboard training at Fukuro Publishing Co. and it had been quite the disaster— t he promising on paper candidate was hired in a pinch as the previous employee had run off to America to chase a girl. Akaashi couldn’t believe it and as a new manager it was vital for him to show up so he started taking the brunt of the burden and worked longer hours. He was burning out quickly though.
This was right as the company hired Bokuto. Kuroo was one of the publishing company's editors so Akaashi spent a lot of time with him and another editor, Oikawa Tooru.
“Poor Akaashi,” Oikawa began, “He must be something if even you don’t have words to describe him.”
“He’s been here for a month and I still can't determine if he’s helping or if he’s not,” was all Akaashi could say.
“Ooh, that bad…?” Kuroo sucked air through his teeth. “I mean, what has he been doing?”
Akaashi began, the other two not realizing they had entered a corporate therapy session. “To be frank, he’s working hard to get a handle on the job. I’ll give him that. But it's like he’s constantly asking me for help and seemingly not paying any attention to whatever I’m saying. And he’s so clumsy! I’ve never seen someone so clumsy and you’d think with that kind of physique he’d have a little more control over himself.”
“Maybe he’s bored…” Oikawa offered.
“Or maybe he likes you.” Kuroo said with a wink.
Lunch hour was over and Akaashi was left with Kuroo’s final comment. At his desk, he later thought about it. Both of them were probably right… they always seemed to know these things and if Akaashi thought about it more, he could see it too. Now wasn’t the time for that, though. He had a job to do.
Iwaizumi had his own opinion on the matter. Sitting across his cubicle was the stern and stoic man who was more technical support for the editor team than the editor himself. Unlike Kuroo and Oikawa, Akaashi held respect for Iwaizumi. He said that when he had to work with Bokuto he was quite professional and attentive, nothing like how Akaashi was describing but it wasn’t that it was unbelievable all together, it was just odd that he was like that.
“Come to think of it, Bokuto tells me he has great respect for you.” He said.
For some reason, it felt like Akaashi already knew this but he was bothered by the fact that he couldn’t understand the man. Everyone else seemed to get along with him, work well with him, and he was never clumsy or idle or unreasonable with them. He was different with Akaashi. He expressed all this concern and Iwaizumi lended an ear.
“Perhaps you try to bring him a coffee tomorrow and start over. Oikawa seems to cheer up that way and I sense that in a way he and Bokuto are similar in that they’re moody like that.” Iwaizumi offered the best solutions.
“Thanks, I’ll try that. I appreciate your opinion.” Akaashi bowed and went back to working. He had to edit quite a lot today and he was counting on Bokuto to get back to him about another copy job by the end of the week. His team was by no means behind schedule,but cutting it close was stressful.
Because Akaashi came into work early most days, the next day he was able to drop by a cafe to pick up two coffees. He knew Bokuto’s order somehow, he couldn’t remember where he learned it. He took his coat off and hung it up and then went to Bokuto’s desk.
The office space was urban in design with exposed brick walls in an industrial building, with high ceilings and big bright windows. It was a true gem and a wonderful space for the job and Akaashi always appreciated the decor and environment. His department worked in the lofted area and Bokuto’s desk was right by the windows on the main floor.
But to his surprise, Bokuto was already there!
Standing awkwardly with the cups in his hand, Akaashi noticed the man was asleep. Should he wake him up? They weren’t technically on the job for another half hour so maybe he should just leave him.
For editors, it was not unusual to see people fall asleep at their desk. Salary pay was helpful in that way: as long as you were producing due evidence of work, they didn’t flag it. But this was something 3+ year employees would do, not 3-month in newbies.
Akaashi decided to talk to him later. It would be better anyways not to have to find out how he was first thing in the morning.
Watching him sleep felt so intimate that he couldn’t help but watch Bokuto’s face for a moment. He looked so peaceful that the thought of waking him would be regretful. He actually wished everyone would stay home so Bokuto could stay like that.
As he set the cup down, Bokuto stirred. He sensed Akashi’s presence and woke up.
“Oh, morning…” He said, dazed. “Coffee for me?”
Akaashi didn’t know what to say. “Sorry for waking you,” came out and he wasn’t sure if it was even him talking.
“It’s no problem, I finished up the edits for you. In your inbox…” Bokuto stood up and stretched. Akaashi's eyes betrayed him and he glanced a peek at Bokuto’s torso. It was lean and well defined. His physique was beautiful.
Luckily, Bokuto was yawning and he didn’t notice. “I’ll be right back…” He said, “I suppose it’s back to work shortly.”
Akaashi hoped he wasn’t blushing but a warmth filled his stomach and he simply turned on his heel and went to his desk.
Kuroo and Iwaizumi strolled in at 7:45am. Iwaizumi passed Akaashi and greeted him to ask if the coffee plan worked. Akaashi told them what happened. Kuroo laughed.
“You telling me that you’ve got a crush on him now?” Kuroo chuckled a bit and excused himself. His cube was a bit further back in the loft.
Iwaizumi simply said, “Plan succeeded, I suppose.”
The next few weeks after this incident went as follows:
Bokuto instantly warmed up to Akaashi. That simple gesture seemed to change his mind or opinion. Perhaps knowing that Akaashi had seen him in such a vulnerable state and offered him a gift won him over. Bokuto came upstairs often to ask Akaashi questions in person rather than by chat messages.
Unfortunately, when Bokuto completed his training and was no longer working directly under Akaashi, he didn’t see him as much. When they passed by each other in the hallways it felt like their relationship — if that’s what you’d call it — was stunted.
“Invite him out to drinks after work!” Oikawa offered.
Iwaizumi smacked Oikawa, “He might definitely think he’s hitting on him then.”
Kuroo agreed and so did Akaashi. It wasn’t that he could deny he was attracted to Bokuto or that he couldn’t get that glimpse out of his mind, it was that he was a professional. There were no work policies against dating coworkers, just not between a manager and their employee. Bokuto didn’t work under Akaashi.
The simple fact was that Akaashi didn’t know what would happen if they became real friends. The chemistry between them was obvious and once they started to get along it was so easy. Like they’d found each other again or something.
Akaashi didn’t say this at all of course. But he did ask the table if they’d be alright if it was a group outing.
“We’re going to karaoke tomorrow night.” Akaashi said flatly. Bokuto seemed to be trying to figure out if he was talking to him. “I wanted to invite you.”
He was awkward, something Akaashi was rarely described as; usually he was eloquent and elegant or at the very least composed. It’s why he was a great manager and editor.
“Me?” Bokuto asked.
“Yeah,” Akaashi twiddled his thumbs a little, “It’ll be me, Kuroo, Oikawa, and Iwaizumi…”
“Sounds neat!” Bokuto said he’d be there. “Can you send me the address?”
They exchanged numbers and it felt so middle school. Shouldn’t this feel like a normal thing? It was the social era… a phone number was such a simple and normal and a not-a-big-deal thing.
“Let’s grab lunch together today,” Bokuto suggested before Akaashi felt the sense the conversation was ending.
“Sure.” Keiji agreed. Their lunch washed away all the stagnant energy between them. It was as if Bokuto planned it so by the time karaoke came they were able to enjoy themselves quicker.
Much of the night was a blur and Bokuto and Kuroo sang many a duet of all sorts of pop songs and kpop and rap. It was entertainment you’d pay for and Akaashi seemingly fell for Bokuto in this life on that night. They walked home together and Akaashi invited Bokuto upstairs. They kissed feverishly, drunkenly, and lovingly.
The sneak peek months earlier was truly just a sweet treat compared to the full spread before him that night. It seemed like a honeymoon, how much he craved the man and in equal reciprocity, Bokuto couldn’t get enough of Akaashi. Intoxication is what you’d call it otherwise, but soulmates have a habit of finding their way back home.
Part 3 – I Think I’ve Met You Before
Akaashi Keiji was twelve when he first met Bokuto Kotaro, who was fourteen at the time. He was never the social type as he much preferred watching people and making up stories about them. Keiji didn’t call anyone his friend but he was never sad about this. For one who did not ever play on sports teams or participate in clubs, he still somehow understood people. Since he was doing this from such a young age his parents never found it unusual. Within minutes he could analyze a person and figure them out.
One day when he was on the swings by his middle school, it began to snow. All bundled up in his coat and thick boots, he watched the snow fall on the frozen ground. It was quite peaceful as many people had decided to go inside. His toes were going numb so he almost did, but then he saw a boy with bright white hair and large golden eyes. He was alone, too.
“Oyy!” the boy called, “Want to build a snowman?”
Keiji didn’t expect the boy to talk to him and looked around to see if he was talking to someone else. No one else was there. Keiji then called back, “Me?”
“Yeah! The snow is perfect for snowballs!”
This boy was Bokuto Kotaro. He was everything Keiji was not but in all the best ways. Kotaro was boastful and confident and loud, but Keiji never minded this. In this life, they were soulmates from this day on.
Once they had grown a little older, it was time for Kotaro to start high school. As an all-star ace, even on his middle school team, Fukurodani Academy welcomed him to their team and Keiji didn’t get to spend as much time with him anymore. But this did not deter Kotaro, who continued to meet Keiji every day at the park after volleyball club was over.
“You’ve gotta join the volleyball club once you get to high school! That way, we can spend every day together!” Kotaro was beaming.
“Kotaro, we see each other almost every day already.” Keiji replied.
The comment did nothing to deter Kotaro’s enthusiasm, “I know, but if you come to Fukurodani and play volleyball, we can see each other every day and for longer than just after school!”
Keiji had already decided he was going, but to hear Kotaro say he wanted him to come was important, too. So he smiled softly and said, “Okay. I’ll join.”
“Yeehee!” Kotaro jumped so high it looked like he was about to take flight. “We could start practicing now so once you get to high school you could be a starter!”
Kotaro then began to give Keiji lessons of sorts. They sat down on the ground and with a stick, Bokuto began explaining volleyball. Keiji knew a few things, like six on a team, three touches per side, keep the ball up. The technical rules were beyond him still.
So Kotaro drew a rectangle with a line down the middle and then six dots. He explained the positions and then boasted, “I’m gonna be the ace next year. And one day, I’m gonna go to the Olympics and represent Japan!”
Keiji didn’t doubt Kotaro, but he couldn’t help but say, “Good thing you’re so athletic because college is not looking so good for you.”
“How dare you!” Bokuto was utterly defeated. His spirits crushed. But he persisted and continued with his lesson.
By the end of the day, the pair were tossing the ball back and forth. It surprised him, but Keiji was good at it. He seemed to get the ball to Bokuto well enough that he didn’t have to run too much to hit it back.
Keiji was good at bumping and setting but once Kotaro set the ball for him to try spiking, it ended with Kotaro in hysterics. The ball had been set almost perfectly and Keiji’s heart was all in when he made the jump, swung with all his might, and missed. The force he used to swing ended up causing him to crash land into the dirt and as soon as Kotaro knew he was okay, burst into a fit of laughter.
Keiji simply rolled his eyes and said, “I’ll leave the spiking to you.”
They met each afternoon, even the days when Kotaro had practices to play and soon enough the new year began and Keiji was walking through the hallways of Fukurodani. The powerhouse school had cases down a neat line with the trophies and awards earned by past teams. A swell of pride settled in Keiji’s chest when he saw Kotaro down the hall.
At first he didn’t recognize him. He was wearing his uniform: Dark green dress pants, tailored and well fitted. The white button down was neatly pressed underneath the gray jacket which was neatly buttoned and fit Kotaro's body well. He was growing taller and getting stronger by the day, soon the uniform wouldn’t fit him. The tie was the most impressive thing for Keiji. Of course, he was wearing the same thing so the uniform was no surprise, but he hadn’t ever seen Kotaro look so well dressed — even if it was just a school uniform. He didn’t want to look away.
As it turned out, Kotaro was participating in a bet with his teammates. The one who can keep their uniform the cleanest, without a wrinkle, the longest in the school year would win a brand new set of volleyball shoes, gifted by the managers. It seemed that the girls had designed this game so the boys of the volleyball team would be a little more respectable in the hallways.
Keiji won without even needing to try and just a few weeks in he was fitted and a brand new pair of shoes arrived. He was not a starter this year, much to Kotaro’s dismay—and the entire team knew he was, in fact, dismayed. There was a constant grumbling, whining, or way about Kotaro where he was dragging his feet a little when Keiji wasn’t playing.
“Kotaro,” Keiji said as they walked home one night, “I’m just as happy watching you play as I am playing with you.”
This simple thing got Kotaro over his slump and it evidently made him perform better. In his mind he wanted to be the best, but in his heart he wanted to impress Keiji more. Keiji enjoyed watching him and as they started playing real matches, it was like Kotaro’s senses were getting better and better each match, each game, and each set. He was excelling far above his teammates and Keiji couldn’t help but want to do more to get him to his dream.
As a first year, Keiji’s responsibilities were to learn and observe but no one knew Kotaro like Keiji did. He could tell from the sidelines when Kotaro started getting mad or upset that he wasn’t playing as good as he had. Kotaro was constantly comparing himself to those around him. He was most critical with himself and having a bad day put the team in a tough spot.
During one match, Kotaro was struggling to hit the ball. With his body growing so fast, it was making it incredibly difficult for him to be consistent. He didn’t care about anything else and the team was suffering because of his mood swings.
“Kotaro seems like he’s about to blow up all the time!” Is how the argument started.
Kotaro had missed another cut shot and he even hit the net on his way down from the spike; he was so disappointed in himself that he ran out of the gym with such frustration. The team altogether struggled because they were having to walk on eggshells around him all day long. Everyone was in a bad mood.
“We shouldn’t have to deal with him being so moody!”
“Bokuto-san needs to get his emotions in check or we’re totally not going to make it anywhere close to finals!”
Keiji hadn’t gone after Kotaro, sensing he needed space for a little while. He helped Washio mop the floors but once he heard them grumbling, he defended Kotaro, saying, “Don’t you understand? He’s trying so hard to be great. He’s passionate and he’s sensitive and he’s damn good at the game. So what if he’s a little childish? He’s got bigger dreams than the rest of us so why shouldn’t we help him get there? Why shouldn’t we be the first ones to love him? One day you’ll be proud to say you played with Bokuto Kotaro.”
It was the bravest thing he’d ever said. And Kotaro had just returned when Keiji finished he’d heard everything.
A blush warmed Keiji’s cheeks. He didn’t know why he was blushing, but his heart was all in it and it was pounding.
Kotaro apologized to his teammates first and then as always, he and Keiji left together. They walked in silence, the colder air cooling off Keiji’s face. He was never so passionate. They were walking over a bridge when Kotaro stopped.
“Did you mean it, Keiji?” Kotaro asked quietly. He leaned against the sidewalk wall.
“What?” Keiji asked.
“That you loved me.” His voice was quiet. Timid. Keiji had never heard him speak like this.
Keiji said the next bravest thing he’d ever do. “I do.”
Kotaro smiled. Unlike his cheeky grins or mischievous smiles, this smile was soft and the kindness in his eyes made Keiji’s heart race a little faster. He was drawn in and found his legs moving to be closer to Kotaro. As Kotaro made room for Keiji to stand in front of him, he put a hand to Keiji’s face. It was warm and Keiji leaned into it. They were eye to eye when Kotaro’s golden eyes glanced down at Keiji’s lips. A soft breeze blew as they kissed for the first time in this lifetime.
Part Four - After All
"It's good to see you, Keiji." Kotaro said when he opened his eyes. That familiar face, the deep green eyes that Kotaro could never look away from.
"I waited for you." Keiji replied, taking a step toward Kotaro.
Soulmates have a habit of finding their way back home. Beginning at the end of a lifetime of love is a good way to find your way to heaven. You ever truly reach the end of the rope but there, indeed, comes a time where the game of lost and found ends. Kotaro and Keiji reached that end and were in flight and would never land again but that's not to say they would ever tire of soaring so long as they were hand in hand. Two soulmates never truly reach the end of the rope but there, indeed, comes a time where the game of lost and found ends. Kotaro and Keiji reached that end and were in flight and would never land again but that's not to say they would ever tire of soaring so long as they were hand in hand.