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Heaving, laboured breaths filled in the soft silence that hung between the falling flakes as he willed his legs to to keep pushing through the rising snow, ignoring the burn in his calves to focus on taking another step. The sky overhead was a bland shade of gray, a hue that seemed to only ever dull all the colour in the world; a sky only ever found in the dead of winter. Snowflakes continued to fall, like small specks of cotton drifting on bitter breezes. Puffs of white filled his vision, expelled with every breath but he hardly noticed the cold biting at his face. Rather, he felt unbearably hot wrapped up in his coat and scarf. His feet screamed for him to stop, a shock of pain clawing at his muscles with every step. It hurt.
Everything hurt.
Bokuto looked ahead; he was surrounded by trees that had long-since lost their leaves. The forest was silent, disturbed only by the compacting crunch of snow under every footfall. No birds sung, and the trees themselves no loner rustled like they were speaking to each other. The scenery felt like something akin to a grave, all of its inhabitants dead to the world around them.
There was nothing.
One more step, then his knee gave out. Bokuto fell, kneeling in a sea of white. A hiss escaped him, feeling the fiery pain carve a searing path up his body. He remained there, trying desperately to breather through it, hoping it would pass. Each inhale only made his lungs feel tighter. He knew he needed to get back up, to keep going, but his limbs felt so heavy. He was tired.
“Bokuto-san…” his name brushed past his ear with a warm breath, a soft mumble that was so different than the sharpness it usually carried. “Please.”
Bokuto groaned as he forced himself to get back on his feet, waiting for only a moment to make sure he was steady. The weight on his back had shifted and he grit his teeth as he hiked Akaashi back up so that he was in the right spot. The younger was barely hanging on, arms loosely wrapped around his neck.
He took another step forward, wincing.
“Bokuto-san…stop, please.”Akaashi’s words were barely there but they were spoken right next to his ear. His voice was shaking.
“It’s fine,” Bokuto forced the words out, brow furrowed in concentration as he placed his next step. He had to keep going, he needed to get them as far as possible. If they could get far enough away, it would be alright again. He refused to believe otherwise.
“It’s too late.” Akaashi sighed, turning his face to burrow in against Bokuto’s neck.
“Don’t,” Bokuto stopped, his voice ripping out of him in a way he didn’t know he was capable of. He stood there, frozen still in the midst of a still forest. His arms were trembling as the burn in his body finally began to spill over, hot tears soaking his reddened cheeks. Everything hurt, but the thought of stopping hurt more.
His resolve faltered, crumbling under the weight of the truth. Bokuto couldn’t take another step, his thighs were shaking and his body refused to move how he wanted it to. All he could manage was to get them to the nearest tree. Carefully, he let Akaashi down so he could rest. The sight of his paling skin twisted something in Bokuto’s stomach and he forced himself to look away. They sat together, blending in with the silence as their clothes slowly continued to dampen from the snow.
Bokuto’s first sob tore through the stillness.
“Don’t leave me,” the works choked him as they spilled out. His trembling fingers clutched the fabric covering his chest as the pained coursed through him.
“As if I would ever leave you,” Steel-blue eyes stared at him, the corners crinkling from the weak smile on his trembling lips. He reached a hand over and gently wiped away a falling tear. Bokuto closed his eyes, sucking in a deep breath, as he leaned into the touch. Slender fingers that had always been warm and caring were now frozen, the tips already beginning to turn ashen gray and stiff. Their touch was colder than the air, stinging the skin beneath them, but Bokuto relished in the touch. His eyes opened slowly, the blurry image of his best friend, the person he loved most, stared back at him. His pale skin was still losing colour, like he was a perfect reflection of the gloomy sky above. Everything about him was muted, slowly resembling them with each passing second.
“It won’t be long,” The younger spoke slowly, eyes glassy as he tried to keep his hand in place, its lack of colour contrasted by the sun-kissed shade of Bokuto’s cheek.
“Akaashi,” the elder shook his head, letting go of his chest in favour of holding the other’s hand firmly against his skin. Without it, he was sure he would unravel.
The raven-haired boy kept his eyes on the other’s tearful ones, taking in the golden amber that stood out against the world around them. Then, he slowly let his gaze fall toward his waist where Bokuto’s handgun sat. The elder shook his head again, closing his eyes as if it could change their reality. With his other hand, Akaashi reached down and did his best to wrap his fingers around the handle. The metal felt warm against his own skin. He moved slowly, before holding it out to Bokuto as if it was simplest thing.
“Please,” the word whispered between them.
Panic seized his chest, and his head shook more violently. He couldn’t, he could never. His eyes clenched shut harder, begging for it to just be a nightmare. Nightmares were common for him. It had to be another nightmare.
“Bo -”
“No,” he gasped, hands trembling around the one still held in his own. “You’re going to be fine.”
The words came out but they sounded hollow, even to his own ears. His eyes darted down to snow beneath Akaashi. Crimson red dyed blank white. His gaze slowly moved to the tear in his pant leg and the open wound that marred his skin. Black outlined it, dark lines spreading out from it like an infection. The flow of blood oozing out of it was starting to slow, draining out of him. Bokuto had tried to treat it earlier but it wouldn’t stop spreading.
“Hey, it’s ok. Everything is going to be ok.” Akaashi forced another smile, his fingers twitching in Bokuto’s hold in a desperate attempt to ease the fear away. He wiggled his hand down so that it rested under his chin, tilting it up so that Bokuto’s eyes were on his own. “Have I ever lied to you before?”
“No,” the elderly whimpered, trying to catch his breath between the never-ending cries that he was trying to swallow down. Akaashi had never lied, had never sugar-coated his words or held back. Bokuto loved that about him, that he knew everything he said was genuine. He knew all of that but this was different. “I can’t do this without, I don’t want to. I’ll do anything, please stay.”
“I told you, I could never leave you. I’ll always be right here. I’ll always be yours.” The words were coming slower…quieter. Bokuto scooted closer to wrap his arms around him, pulling him into his chest and tucking his head under his chin. Soft, dark curls brushed against his throat as the younger let himself lean into it. “I know it’s selfish, but…
I don’t want to be like them.”
Bokuto squeezed his eyes shut, assaulted by the images of Akaashi’s lifeless body wandering aimlessly like all the others. It left alone he would become just another cold corpse haunting the world. Just imagining it widened the cracks that had already begun forming along the thin tissue of his heart. Bokuto knew that there was only one way to stop it, but it threatened to pull him apart at the very seams. He couldn’t speak, too afraid what his voice would sound like if he did. He had promised to keep him safe, to protect the only good thing he had left, yet it was slowly slipping away in his arms.
“Ok…”
“Thank you.” The words escaped Akaashi as a sigh of relief. With what strength he had left he pushed away from Bokuto before leaning up to press a soft touch of his lips against the other’s. It was brief, not nearly enough to make up for the loss lingering in both of their thoughts. Bokuto had to focus on forcing his arms to let go of the younger, blinking through more tears as he pulled away. Cold metal landed heavily in his hand, and suddenly it felt as if the weight of the world was nestled in his palm.
“Close your eyes, Bokuto-san.”
He felt his heart rampaging within the confines of his chest, but he did as he was asked. He didn’t want Akaashi to suffer anymore than he was he already was. If it meant making sure Akaashi would be happy, now matter how much it broke him, he would see it through. He could hear the other shifting a little, the snow being pushed down. Bokuto almost jumped when careful hands took his own and gently guided until he was properly holding the gun. His arm was pulled upwards until Akaashi seemingly had it exactly where he needed it.
“I love you Bokuto Koutarou. Always.” Akaashi’s sweet voice was thick, a sign that he was crying. Bokuto’s arms twitched with the need to hold him but he held back.
“I love you, Keiji.”
“I know,” a faint laugh, a moment where it all seemed less heavy. “I know, so it’s ok, Koutarou. Let me go.”
The older boy shook as he tried to breathe. All around him, the world seemed to vanish. He was all alone in the dark as he struggled to pull the trigger. The warmth that had been burning him from the inside out was gone. Yet he stayed in place, focused only on his loved one’s words, and did was asked. He let go.
A shot shattered the silence of the forest, echoing into the barren distance. Then, nothing.
Bokuto did not move, eyes still shut. The silence that hung around him was haunting. He held his breath, straining to hear anything. Nothing. There were no birds singing, or trees rustling as if they were speaking to each other. There was no soft voice whispering into his ear.
In that moment, the world itself was nothing.
Wails filled in the emptiness, his hand dropping the metal weight still pulling him down. He buried his face in his hands, a futile attempt to hide from the storm in his own mind. The keening cries clawed at his throat, replacing silence with loss. He couldn’t stop. The pain in him burned with fury, the force of it making him curl in on himself. Every thought was filled with the face of the person he’d never have again. Sharp, blue eyes that always gleamed in a way that made him seem like he knew everything, a smile so gentle that shone through their darkest nights, and a laugh that felt like a spring breeze bringing a new day. It was all gone. In their place was the cycling echo of a gunshot. The shot that he had taken.
He had killed Akaashi Keiji.
Slowly, Bokuto’s eyes opened. He stared at the snow falling past his gaze. Tears still continued to fall but his throat was too raw to make any sound. He felt…as if he was floating. Hesitantly, he looked down to the body laid out in front of him. Leaning forward, he gathered the still body into his arms. As Bokuto leaned back against the tree, he pulled Akaashi in against his chest and tucked away from the world.
Overhead, the sky was a bland shade of gray and cotton-like snowflakes slowly drifted to the ground. Puffs of white filled his vision, expelled with every breath but he hardly noticed the cold. He felt rather warm wrapped up in his coat and scarf. His limbs felt heavy as he tightened his hold on the person he held. He was tired. As his eyes slipped closed again, letting the snow blanket him, he didn’t hurt.
Instead, he felt numb. Everything felt numb.