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Keiji falls in love like the flutter of a cherry blossom’s petal in the spring’s breeze. Quietly and unassuming, and often overlooked in the grand scheme of things. He’s always been private about his affections, only stealing little glimpses and touches that never linger for too long, and so it comes as a bit of a surprise when—
“We’re graduating soon, you know,” Konoha says. “You aren’t going to tell him yet?”
Keiji snaps his eyes away from the court, where Bokuto is practicing his serves, volleyballs smashing heavily onto the opposing side of the net. Practice just ended, but their captain is still going. His lips part, confused, but at the same time, he thinks he already knows what this is about. “Tell… who?”
Konoha plays along with his feigned innocence anyway. “I was just wondering if you were ever going to confess your feelings to Bokuto.”
His words strike like an arrow through Keiji’s chest, knocking the wind out of his lungs. He takes a deep breath, steadying himself, and turns his gaze back to the court. Bokuto’s picking up another ball, getting ready to serve again. No use in pretending. “I still have time.”
“Not really. We graduate in a little over two months. After Nationals, you won’t get much of a chance anymore.”
He knows Konoha’s just being objective, but hearing it aloud isn’t the most comforting. Keiji shrugs, dropping all pretense he has left. “I don’t know if it’ll go well, if I do.”
“Please. Bokuto only ever wants to spike your sets.”
“That doesn’t mean anything. I’m our team’s only setter.”
“He clings to you first when we gather for a team cheer.”
“Because he thinks the captain and vice-captain should stick together.”
“He—” Konoha throws his hands in the air. “You’re just being stubborn!”
That makes Keiji crack a smile. “Maybe.”
It’s not like he’s never wondered—rather, Keiji’s wondered a little too much, with the number of nights he’s laid awake, running through every interaction they’ve ever had. He’s entertained the idea of Bokuto liking him back many times, curious if each pat on the back or wide, boisterous grin held anything other than friendship.
But try as he might, as well as Keiji knows Bokuto, he just isn’t sure.
It’s too uncertain for him to even begin considering confessing, anyway.
Konoha sighs. “I guess there’s still Nationals to get through. After that, though, I don’t want to see you two dancing around the subject anymore. Really. I’m about to lose my bet with Sarukui if you don’t hurry up soon.”
Keiji squints. “You’re betting on me?”
“The whole squad is. Komi already lost. He had more faith in you two than any of us did.”
Keiji scowls, nudging him playfully, and Konoha barks out a laugh as he ruffles his hair, messing it up.
Time flows by like a river’s rushing current, and soon enough, graduation day arrives.
After the official ceremonies are over, the Fukuroudani Volleyball Team gather outside the courtyard, chattering amongst themselves and making their final memories. Keiji finds himself stuck in the middle—he tried not to be too obstructive, but the third years dragged him by the shoulder and he hasn’t found a way to escape yet.
“Akaashi’s going to be captain soon,” Sarukui teases, poking his cheek. “I can’t believe I’ve watched you grow from a little first year baby to now. I’m getting a bit emotional.”
“I’m not dying, Sarukui-san,” he deadpans back. It’s only then he notices a sudden, missing presence. “Where’s Bokuto-san?”
“He went to grab more food with Yukie,” Washio supplies, gesturing to the distance where catered lunch is being provided. Even with this large of a gap, Keiji can make out Bokuto’s muscular frame and bright hair, sunshine bouncing off the strands.
“When they come back, let’s take a senior group photo!” Suzumeda suggests as she waves her graduation scroll at them, capturing their attention.
Indeed, when the other two return, plates full of food, the third years squeeze together under a shady tree, getting ready for a photo. The camera is dropped into Keiji’s hands unceremoniously, and when he backs up to capture them all in frame, he starts to feel a little nostalgic.
Ultimately, though, his eyes land on Bokuto even through the screen, front and center of the group and posing with two peace signs. He’s grinning wide, and Keiji has to stop his own lips from twitching into a smile of their own.
He’s going to miss this.
A small voice in the back of his head whispers that this may be his final chance. And perhaps it isn’t a bad idea at all—if all goes well, Keiji ends up dating the person he’s pined after for years. If it ends badly, though, then Bokuto will graduate and Keiji will never have to see him again.
Huh. Perhaps this is the perfect opportunity.
Finally, Keiji snaps the photos, giving them a thumbs up when he’s done. His seniors race to gather around him, all trying to take a peak at the picture. Someone complains that they were blinking in one. Someone else groans that the shadows make them look funny. And—
“Let me see!” Bokuto gasps, hands on Keiji’s shoulders, and Keiji instinctively tilts the camera’s screen towards him. “Whoa, we look so cute!”
“Bokuto, your peace sign is blocking half my face, damn it!”
As the group continues to yell over each other, Keiji finds his attention stolen once again. He’s never been able to keep his eyes away for too long.
“Bokuto-san,” he murmurs, turning around.
Bokuto meets his gaze head-on. His eyes are still alight with amusement, but there’s patience there too, like there always is when Keiji speaks to him. Like he has all the time in the world for him.
Despite the crowd around them, Keiji pays them no mind, stuck in a bubble built just for them. His breath stutters, Bokuto’s eyes so intense that he has to tear his own away, gaze dropping down, and—
Oh.
On Bokuto’s uniform, right over where his heart lies, his second button is missing.
“Yeah?” Bokuto asks, bringing Keiji out of his shocked trance.
“Um,” he starts, feeling his world cave in. Should he ask about it? Isn’t that too indiscreet? “Never mind. I just wanted to congratulate you on graduating.”
“Oh.” Bokuto blinks, stunned, but after a moment, gives him the brightest beam. “Thank you! You know, if you didn’t tutor me on math, I might not have made it!”
“I barely did that. Washio-san helped you more.”
Bokuto just laughs heartily, slapping his back again, and Keiji crosses his arms around his chest, trying to forget about it.
It’s not a big deal, in the long run.
Whoever Bokuto’s second button went to, Keiji doesn’t know, but it’s fine. At the end of the day, he and Bokuto are friends, and Keiji’s content if things stay exactly the same as they are.
He knows Bokuto’s going to a local university, with aims to join a university team and hopefully get scouted there. Not that Keiji thinks he has anything to worry about—Bokuto was offered a scholarship for volleyball overseas. But he didn’t accept it, stating that he didn’t want to move out of Japan.
(“I don’t think I’ll do it. How will I see you if I move countries?”
“Bokuto-san, you shouldn’t limit yourself because of me.”
“It’s not that. I’ll make it big right here in Tokyo. I want to become Japan’s star.”)
Some time during spring break, Keiji goes over to Bokuto’s house to help him with packing.
His room is a mess by the time Keiji arrives, with Bokuto in the midst of digging through his closet. Keiji has already greeted his mother at the doorstep, so he waits for Bokuto’s actions to calm down a little before he clears his throat, announcing his presence.
“Akaashi!” Bokuto gasps, nearly knocking his head against a shelf when he whips it out. “You’re here.”
“Thank you for having me.” Keiji bows, watching as Bokuto stumbles over the mountain of clothes on the floor to get to him. “…What are you trying to pack?”
“Everything. I don’t know. Do you think the closets at the dorms would be as big as mine?”
“I don’t think so,” Keiji replies, picking up a shirt. He recognises it as one of the ones Bokuto would bring as his pyjamas for training camps. He’s probably outgrown it by now, though. “Do you still wear this?”
“Hm? Oh, nah, it’s too small. You can keep it.”
Keiji’s heart stutters. “I— I can what?”
“Yeah, now that you’re holding it, I think it fits you perfectly.” Bokuto grins. “Keep it!”
Keiji folds the shirt up, holding it to his chest. “Right…”
They spend the rest of the afternoon packing together. Eventually, Bokuto has one large suitcase ready, and another duffel bag on top for all his volleyball gear. It seems a bit excessive, but Keiji already talked him out of bringing every single one of the photo frames he keeps on his desk, so he won’t comment.
Exhausted, Bokuto flops back onto his bed with a sigh. “Ahh, I can’t believe we’re done. I’m so tired I can barely feel my legs.”
“You do way more intensive things during training and you never complain then,” Keiji points out.
“Yes, but training is fun! Packing isn’t!”
He smiles. It’s moments like these that remind him—Bokuto is going to make it big one day, and Keiji will hopefully be there to watch it happen.
“When do you leave? I’ll come see you off at the station.”
Bokuto sits up, eyes sparkling. “You will? Next Monday!”
That’s a whole week away. Keiji mentally marks it down in his head and nods. At Bokuto’s enthusiastic whoop, he hides another foolish smile behind his palms.
Damn it. This is so embarrassing.
Keiji stares at himself in the bathroom mirror, feeling blood rush to his cheeks as Bokuto’s shirt sits on his body, one side almost slipping off his shoulder. The material is soft and comfortable, and it’s a deep blue colour similar to a night sky, and—
What the hell. It’s just a shirt! It’s just a shirt. Why is Keiji getting so flustered? He really needs to get it together.
It’s a Sunday evening anyway, which means he has to be up early to see Bokuto off at the train station. He needs to get a hold of himself right now, or he won’t be able to sleep tonight, which will affect his alertness tomorrow.
Keiji splashes some cold water on his face, trying to get the red to go down. When he deems that sufficient, he exits the bathroom and returns to his bedroom, though he stops in his tracks when he sees his mother inside.
“Ah, Keiji is here! Sorry, honey, your phone was ringing so insistently that I came to pick it up. It’s Koutarou.” His mother walks over, handing him his phone and heading down the stairs. “I’ll be watching TV if you need me.”
“Oh, okay.” Keiji shuts his door, about to lift the phone to his ear, but he freezes when he sees Bokuto’s face on the screen, moving about.
“Akaashi! I wanted to ask you which pair of shoes I should get, so I texted you pictures, but you weren’t replying so I video called you instead,” Bokuto rambles, flipping the camera and pointing it at his laptop screen. “There’s this red one and this black one— are you wearing my shirt?”
Keiji’s throat dries. He was so stunned he forgot to turn the camera away in time.
“You gave it to me,” he defends, trying to sound aloof about it. He needs to sink into a hole and die.
“I know, but…” Ugh, and he can’t even see Bokuto’s face right now. What is he thinking? As well as he knows him, Keiji isn’t able to tell if he can’t actually see Bokuto’s expression. “I didn’t think you’d, um, wear it.”
What does that even mean? All it does is fluster Keiji further. Seriously, he should toss himself into the ocean.
“Never mind,” Keiji bites out. “What were you saying about the shoes?”
“Right! So there’s this red one, it’s over here…”
As Keiji sits down on a chair and listens to Bokuto chatter away, a bit of guilt gnaws at his heart. He hasn’t thought about it since noticing it, but he assumes Bokuto has a special, romantic someone in his life. Keiji doesn’t know who she is, but it’s evident from his missing second button that she exists, at the very least. Would she be comfortable knowing that someone else was wearing Bokuto’s shirt, video calling him, and even seeing him off for college?
Wait… Or maybe she rejected him, and Bokuto tossed the button away? Impossible, though, because Keiji would have been able to tell. Bokuto isn’t the most subtle when it comes to his emotions, and a rejection from someone he likes would surely get him down in the dumps.
No, it doesn’t matter. Keiji needs to be paying attention to what Bokuto is saying. The mysterious romantic someone can wait.
Still, as Keiji listens to Bokuto’s voice and watches his every expression through the screen, he finds himself clutching the oversized shirt and hoping that the romantic someone doesn’t exist at all.
“This should be the right station,” Keiji says as he takes the final step to the platform.
It’s mostly empty, likely due to the train’s late departure timing. The sky is just beginning to set, the barest hints of gold peeking out from the horizon, casting subtle shadows over their figures. Bokuto continues walking until they’re somewhere in the centre of the platform, underneath a screen with a timer on when the train will be arriving.
Ten more minutes to go.
“Akaashi,” Bokuto says, facing the train tracks. Keiji stands a little behind him, arms held behind his back. “Thank you.”
Keiji’s eyes fall to Bokuto’s shoulders, broad and steady, then to his arm, his hand gripped tightly around his suitcase. “What for, Bokuto-san?”
“For coming here with me, of course. I didn’t want to tell you, because I kind of wanted to seem cool and grown up, but I was nervous about moving on my own. And I was really relieved when you offered your company.”
Keiji’s throat tightens. “It’s nothing,” he says, and he doesn’t add the part where he offered to come because he wanted to spend as much time as possible with Bokuto. A selfish reason, and one that will remain unsaid. Only one of them wears their honest heart on their sleeve.
Bokuto turns around. It takes Keiji’s breath away when he sees the expression on his face, shadowed with melancholy and a little bit of reluctance. Crush or not, Keiji and Bokuto have always been close, and yet, Keiji has never seen him make this face before.
It lacks Bokuto’s usual optimistic grin. He finds himself already missing him terribly.
Keiji glances up at the clock again. Six more minutes.
“Um, I—” he begins, the words already scrambling in his head. “You’ll do great, Bokuto-san, I’m sure. The college team is going to be lucky to have a star ace like you.”
Bokuto’s lips split into a big smile. “They will! But I’ll miss your sets the most, Akaashi!”
“There will be a more talented setter on the team.”
“It just won’t be the same,” Bokuto insists, and Keiji realises he doesn’t have any argument to give.
“I suppose you’re right,” he relents.
A horn blares, signalling that there’s five more minutes until the train arrives. A surge of panic rushes through Keiji’s veins, though he isn’t even sure what for—he doesn’t have anything left to say.
…Right?
Bokuto, who glanced up when the signal rang, returns his gaze back down. He looks like he has something he wants to say, lips opening briefly before closing. Keiji rarely sees him hesitate like this, too. Something must be on his mind.
“Yes?” he asks gently, trying not to sound too imploring.
Bokuto suddenly spreads out his arms, stepping forward and wrapping Keiji up in a hug.
Keiji gasps, heels lifting off the ground as he’s entirely engulfed. Heat rushes to his cheeks in an instant, his senses all overflowing at once. He can smell Bokuto’s shampoo, could drown in the warmth of his hold, and can feel the beating of his heart against his chest, pressed tightly to Keiji’s own hammering one.
“Bokuto-san,” he rasps, before logic kicks in and he makes an attempt to hug him back. He doesn’t do more than a few pats, though, too shy to go any further.
“Akaashi,” he murmurs, voice low and ghosting past Keiji’s ears, making him shudder. “I… Can I show you something?”
He lets go. Keiji finds himself missing the warmth immediately, but he ignores it in favour of watching Bokuto reach into his pocket, grasping something in his hand.
“I was going to give you this way earlier,” Bokuto starts, looking bashful, “but I forgot! And then every time I thought about giving it again, I chickened out, which is so uncool, and I realise now’s my final chance so I guess I have to do it now!”
His words are rushed and a little jumbled. Keiji’s heart thumps fondly anyway. “What is it?”
“Uh… I think it’s better if I just show you,” Bokuto laughs, uncurling his fingers.
Keiji’s world comes to a standstill.
Laying in the middle of Bokuto’s palm, a round button waits, gold and embezzled with Fukurodani’s school logo.
Keiji looks back up with frantic eyes, unable to believe what he’s seeing, only to find Bokuto already looking back at him.
Behind him, the sunset is in full swing, its golden hues bright and magnificent. But all Keiji can focus on is Bokuto’s expression, soft and patient, waiting for his reply.
“It’s—” Keiji croaks, “it’s for me?”
“If you’ll have it,” Bokuto confirms.
This whole time. This whole time, Keiji has decided to settle with his own feelings, keeping them locked away so he can appreciate what he already has. This entire time, he’s conjured up a mental, imaginary image of someone that doesn’t exist.
Or, well, they do exist. It’s him.
“I thought you gave it to someone else,” Keiji blurts. A huge weight lifts off his shoulders, one he didn’t even realise he was carrying. “I really— I noticed your button was missing, but I didn’t dare to say anything.”
Bokuto laughs, rubbing the nape of his neck. “I should’ve known you’d notice! You’re always so observant, Akaashi.”
Keiji reaches for the button, but instead of taking it, he wraps his hands around Bokuto’s outstretched one, cradling it. With a shuddering breath, Keiji bows, brushing his lips against Bokuto’s fingers.
The silent action is more than enough for Bokuto to pick up on his acceptance. They’ve always been scarily in-tune with one another.
Bokuto lets out an excited yell, and this time, Keiji is prepared for the second hug he’s wrapped up in. This one truly lifts his feet off the ground as Bokuto spins him around, a strong hand wrapped around his body for support, and Keiji bursts into uncontrollable laughter.
When Keiji is set down—as gently as the flap of a butterfly’s wings, and with all the grace of a swan, he takes the button, holding it close to his chest. Bokuto is still smiling, looking as bright as all the stars in the universe combined.
Keiji looks up. The screen reads that there’s a minute left before the train arrives.
He takes the leap of faith, despite his thundering heart and the nervous energy fizzling through his body, he steps forward, asking, “Bokuto-san, may I..?”
Bokuto’s answer is to take him by the waist and pull him into a kiss.
It’s softer than Keiji expected. For all of Bokuto’s excitable energy, when it comes to Keiji, he always slows down, as if to treasure every second. Keiji’s heart threatens to burst at the seams, so full and overflowing with affection, as he cradles Bokuto’s face and kisses him back as best as he can.
It feels like they’re meant to be, souls intertwined across the universes. Keiji isn’t one to believe in silly fantasies like that, but if they were to exist, he truly feels he would recognise Bokuto in every timeline and every dimension.
Because if Bokuto is his star, then Keiji will be the skies that worship him and the ocean that reflects his twinkling light—he will be his world.
A second horn blares. The train rushes onto the platform. Bokuto’s grip on his waist tightens, and they’re both thinking the same thing: They don’t want to let go.
Alas, Bokuto can’t miss his train. Keiji would sooner push him on himself than let Bokuto stay here because of him. So he pulls back, trying to soothe the ache in his heart as he wishes, “Good luck. I’ll be rooting for you.”
“Wait!” Bokuto says, eyes darting to the side as the train doors open. “Can I— I’ll call you! And text! And visit as much as I can, oh, and can I call you my boyfriend?”
Keiji’s eyes sting at the flurry of questions. He already misses him ardently. “Yes,” he says, pushing Bokuto’s shoulders. “Now go. Don’t miss your train.”
He stands there on the platform until Bokuto’s train leaves, watching and waving at him through the window. And despite their quick, rushed separation, Keiji’s heart remains full on his entire journey home.
fukuroudani volley pals 🦉🏐 💛
bokuto <3
> I DID IT
> AKAASHI IS OFFICIALLY MY BOYFRIEND!!!!!!!
konoha-san
> you couldn’t have done this literally ONE WEEK EARLIER?? man fuck you
> but congratulations
komi-san
> join the losers side konoha
> congrats!! we’ve been waiting on this for forever i swear
sarukui-san
> doesn’t this mean kaori wins?
> she guessed the closest date, according to what i’ve written down :3
suzumeda-san
> it feels great being right
bokuto <3
> ??? What is everyone talking about
Me (akaashi keiji)
don’t worry about it. <