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Looking at the dark ceiling of his room, a wave of thoughts bursted through Akaashi’s mind, flooding it.
He asked himself many things, between them that same one, that seemed to not want to let go of him, that made him rethink his whole life, and all the momentos he had been through. The good, and the bad. The sad and the happy. Of anxiety and calm. Any moment the mind of his could think of.
In a more simple way, he was having an existential crisis, and it was that same question, that didn't seem to have any answer, that bothered him:
Why am I here?
Some specific moments came like flashes in his mind, possible answers — that he didn't know whether to believe or not —, popped up during the crisis.
“My name is Akaashi Keiji, I’m 10 years old,” he said hesitant, looking at all the different and new faces standing in front. “I hope I get along well with you.” finished in a low voice. Akaashi didn’t really enjoy social interactions, and preferred the comfort of his books. However, he was never rude to anybody, and didn't see any reasons to be.
“It’s great to have you here Akaashi, you can sit next to Bokuto” the teacher pointed to a student with grey hair and golden eyes, who talked excitedly to another student, who had black hair. It was very possible that they spent hours in the bathroom, Keiji thought, because there was a lot of gel on their hair.
The nostalgic memory filled his heart, sending a shiver and a hot feeling through his body, in a comfortable way, even though it was a nervous moment for him. At the end of that day he had already made a friend, except it wasn’t Koutarou, but Kenma, another boy who was also quieter in classes.
Weeks later, Akaashi Keiji and Bokuto Koutarou became friends, in a very… peculiar way.
“Ouch…” mumbled somebody next to Akaashi. He turned to see who it was, meeting with the same golden eyes. The boy was with a hand on his forehead, a look of pain on his face.
“Is everything alright?” asked Akaashi, closing his lock, holding the English books in his hands.
“Yeah…” the boy murmured “But I hit my face on the lock”. Keiji couldn’t help but laugh softly.
It was something so simple, so mundane, but after it the grey haired boy didn't stop, complaining about how he always hit his head somewhere, or how he had fallen out of his bed on the week before, and even that he couldn't count the times that he knocked his toe on the edge of the couch. He did look clumsy.
A shiver — not so nice this time — went up his spine, remembering the day Kenma moved in with him. The reason? He had told his parents about him and the boy with black hair — who he now knew was called Kuroo —, but they didn't accept it well.
They were 18 when it happened…
He was on the couch with Bokuto, watching a horror movie while the gray haired boy twisted and turned in fear of the clown.
“Why always clowns?” mumbled, having a laugh as a response coming from Keiji.
He heard noises coming from the door, looking at it instinctively. There was no reason for someone to be at the door, it was late and it was cold. He stopped the movie and went to the door, seeing Kozume, shivering with cold. He opened the door, seeing his friend embracing himself.
“Kenma..?”
The blond one raised his head, and Akaashi noticed that he shivered not from cold, but because he was crying, the eyes puffy and the face wet. Without hesitation, he got his friend inside, and sat him on the couch. He gave him a blanket and a cup of water that Koutarou had brought.
Seeing the discomfort on Kenma’s look, Bokuto stood up and walked to the door, to leave the friends alone. Akaashi stared at the golden eyes before him, the seconds passing quickly while they talked in a silent gaze.
After that day, they moved in together and had the routines to be more complex, although interesting. They could count on each other for anything.
Other thought not so good bursted in his mind, a memory sometime after the last one, with some years of difference. That way, it was a memory of his 21.
Keiji was lying on bed, his eyes heavy and the head painful.
“Agaashe” he heard Bokuto mumble, his eyes shining like gold in the dim room. “I told you not to stay until midnight correcting tests!” he scolded, keeping his voice low because of the black haired boy’s headache.
“Sorry…” he muttered, noticing that the other was sitting on the edge of the bed. He got up and laid again, but this time on Koutarou’s lap, feeling his hand patting him on the head. He fell asleep in less than five minutes.
He twisted and turned in bed, fidgety, as he turned to his other side. A feeling rose up his body, as he saw those beautiful golden eyes looking at him with love. He felt the bed sink next to him, and strong arms wrapped him in a hug. The wedding ring on his left hand pressed against his skin.
“Agaashe?” Bokuto asked in a low voice, leaving a soft kiss on Keiji’s hair.
“Yes, Bokuto-san?” He answered in the same tone.
“Having a difficult time trying to sleep, my love?” Akaashi leaned his chin on the chest of the husband, looking into his eyes, still on the hug.
“It's nothing, Kou” He left a small kiss on the other’s lips, and nestled again in his arms, closing his eyes and accepting Bokuto’s heat. “Did I wake you?”
“No” Koutarou whispered, patting his head. After long minutes in the same position, Akaashi felt his eyes closing, being embraced by sleep.
Before falling asleep, Keiji noticed he had the answer to his question.
He knew why he was there.
He was there because only this way he would have his name called wrong.
He was there because only this way he would be hugged by his love.
He was there because only this way he could make the love of his life come back from emo mode.
He was there because the golden eyes of his husband were his biggest treasure.
Akaashi Keiji was there for Bokuto Koutarou