Chapter 3: In Another Life Part 3 (END)
The reflection of ending movie credits could be seen in Akaashi's eyes as they scrolled up along the screen of his laptop.
Sitting back, he reached a hand out and paused the movie that'd been on screen.
"So, how was it, watching the movie for the thousandth time?" There was almost a hint of sarcasm in his voice.
Lying next to Akaashi, a ghostly pale Bokuto smiled.
"...Good..." Bokuto eased back and buried his head into his pillow. He looked in Akaashi's direction. It took a moment for Bokuto to focus on him.
Pulling his laptop close, Akaashi smoothed his finger along the mouse pad. He looked to the lower right corner of the screen. January 19th, 6:40pm.
Akaashi pulled a solemn face and closed the laptop. He moved in his seat and sat straight against the head of the bed, then looked down at Bokuto.
His tired eyes were on Akaashi. He was grinning.
Forcing a smile of his own, Akaashi tilted his head only slightly.
"What are you smiling at?" He reached a hand out and touched Bokuto's forehead. He was cool to the touch – colder than most. Akaashi was quick to withdraw his hand, but he managed it discretely.
It took a moment for Bokuto to respond, but after some time, he managed some words.
"... Thank you..."
"Don't worry about it." A sheepish grin curled Akaashi's lips. "I know you're fond of that movie." He looked down at Bokuto as he said this, and glanced away soon after. Something told him that those words weren't meant for the movie, but Akaashi shoved this thought away.
He twisted his body to reach for the box of Pocky that sat on the counter. He opened it and pulled one out.
"Do you want one?"
Bokuto nodded and stretched a wobbling arm out. Akaashi placed it in between his fingers, and Bokuto retracted his hand to hold the biscuit snack against himself. He held it to his nose with some difficulty and breathed in the strawberry scent, then let his arm fall. He touched at it lightly, twirled it shakily between his fingers, and studied it, but he never ate it.
Akaashi placed the box back onto the counter and huffed softly.
"You seem to have grown more attached to that Pocky stick than me..."
Bokuto looked up, surprised, and glanced back down at the snack in his hands. It took time for Akaashi's words to reach him, but when they finally did, his face lit up as he broke out in laughter.
It was the weakest sound Akaashi had ever heard.
"Ah, I've finally said something funny." Akaashi chuckled with Bokuto, folding his arms in the process. "I told you I had my moments every so often."
Bokuto's laughter died down and he closed his eyes.
"R...arely..."
"Give me a break here." Akaashi's chortling had been dragged out for a few seconds longer before he, too, quieted down.
They remained speechless in each other's company for several minutes before Bokuto actually spoke up, his voice sounding like nothing more than a mere whisper.
"Keiji..."
Akaashi looked at him.
"M-hm?"
Bokuto swallowed thickly and toyed with the Pocky in his hand.
"Ask... M-me w... Why I like... Cloud Atlas so much."
Perplexed, Akaashi directed his full attention to Bokuto.
"Well alright... Koutarou, why do you like Cloud Atlas so much?" He watched Bokuto intently, curious to know what his answer would be.
Looking up at Akaashi with eager eyes, as if he'd been asked the question out of his own free will, Bokuto gladly answered.
"S... So you... Know in the m-movie when... Th... Characters die in one life...?" He kept his weary yellow eyes on Akaashi, waiting for him to nod. Once he did, Bokuto continued. "W-well... I... Like it when... Th-they find each other again... In another life."
Bokuto's voice was soft, measly, and carried no force to it. But as he spoke about his favorite scene, Akaashi could sense a powerful vibe coming from him... One that wasn't there before.
A hopeful one.
"It m-makes me... Feel like I'll h-have another life... One beyond this one... One that's better... Wh.. Where I can actually wake up to you... and be with y... you..." A smile played on his pale, thin lips. "One where we... Can... Live n...normal lives instead of... Living... This one."
Akaashi couldn't find any words to say at that moment. He stared at Bokuto and could only nod with whatever it was he thought he was agreeing with. He felt as if all the air had been squeezed out of his body by the words that Bokuto had spoken.
Of all the things that Bokuto found most endearing of the movie, Akaashi never thought it would be that.
Managing a miserable smile, Akaashi roughly rubbed his palm with his thumb.
"You know... I would like that. Very much." He spoke gently in Bokuto's direction.
"Me too..." Bokuto's eyes never left Akaashi. He stared at him intently and watched every move he made, to the point where this had captured Akaashi's attention.
"Why do you watch me like that?" His emerald eyes met golden ones.
Though the question was asked clearly, Bokuto didn't make a sound, nor did he move. He instead continued to stare in Akaashi's direction with hopeful eyes.
After what felt like the longest ten seconds of his life, a sudden shudder charged down Akaashi's spine, causing goose bumps to rise on his flesh. He held his breath, then proceeded to ask again.
"Koutarou... Why do you watch me like that?" It took every fiber of his being to keep his voice from trembling.
It was then that Bokuto's eyes blinked in realization, and slowly but surely, he moved his lips to answer.
"Just... Because..." He replied in what almost sounded like a surprised tone. "I didn't... Want you to leave. Sometimes when I... blink... you aren't there anymore..." Bokuto rubbed one of his eyes, then the other, and let his hand drop to his sides.
Akaashi tried to hide his frown. His eyes looked down at Bokuto's hands. They were thin and bony, and he could see those smooth blue veins curling over the bones beneath his flesh.
He reached a hand out and took Bokuto's hand in his own.
Bokuto's automatic reaction to the warmth was to curl his fingers around Akaashi's grasp. He looked at him and exhaled through his nose quietly.
Akaashi met his gaze, then looked down.
"Don't worry. I'm still here."
Bokuto nodded feebly against his pillow.
"I'm still... Here too..." His voice was weaker than before, if possible.
Akaashi nodded, with him.
"Yeah. You're still here, too..."
With what little strength he had left, Bokuto beamed.
Akaashi wished he could do the same.
New Message!
From: Kuroo (Sent January 31st at 2:25 PM)
[Hey, are you there?]
Akaashi:
[Yes, I am.]
Kuroo:
[How are things?]
Akaashi:
[Things could be better. Things could be worse.]
Kuroo:
[May I ask how Bokuto is doing?]
Akaashi:
[He's... Hanging on.]
Kuroo:
[Can he still walk? Or talk?]
Akaashi:
[No, he can't. He lost the ability to walk a little more than a week ago. His ability to speak left him soon after.]
Kuroo:
[I see. You really are straightforward, aren't you?]
Akaashi:
[I don't know any other way to put it. Sorry.]
Akaashi looked up from his phone after sending the message and turned his head to notice that Bokuto was once again staring at him with acute interest.
His eyes read, "Who's that?"
Stuffing his phone in his pocket, Akaashi shrugged.
"Just... Kuroo." He said the name with a lack of interest to try and soften the blow, but Akaashi knew that no matter how he approached it, Bokuto would frown when he heard the name.
And he did.
Bokuto looked down at Akaashi's hand. His eyes gave away just how much he missed his friend. Feeling an amount of guilt build up within his chest, Akaashi pulled out his phone just as quickly as he'd hid it away.
"Would you like for him to send a photo?"
Bokuto looked back up and thought for a moment, then nodded.
Playing off of this, Akaashi texted for Kuroo to send an image of himself for Bokuto to see. It took quite some time for a message from Kuroo to arrive, but when it did, Akaashi realized that he'd sent a video instead of what was initially asked for.
Akaashi leaned over in his seat to move himself closer to Bokuto. With one elbow on the bed, he held his phone so that the both of them could see. Bokuto stared at the screen with interested eyes, wondering what the content would consist of. Akaashi pressed play, and a video of Kuroo started to play.
He sat at home in bed, with a snug fitting shirt on and his hair an absolute mess.
"What's up, guys? Ahhhh I know you didn't tell me to send a video, but, I'm not someone who follows rules." He pulled a mock cool expression, but this was cut short as someone else spoke up.
From the background of the video, a low voice could be heard.
"What? Did you just... Say that to yourself?"
"No- wow, no, I'm taking a video."
Kuroo panned the phone to his side, and a blurred Kenma came into focus on screen. He sat cross-legged, with a shirt on that was two sizes too big, and a hat that looked as if it had been placed on his head without his consent. His head was down and his fingers moved swiftly over the buttons on the gaming device that he held in his hands. At one point, he reached a hand up to grab the beanie off of his head, and he aimlessly chucked it to the ground with force.
"Say hi, Kenma."
"Wait, what? I didn't hear what you said..." Kenma looked up and was greeted with a front facing camera. He quickly got up from the bed and walked off. "Don't record me."
"At least say hi," Kuroo called.
"Hi." The disembodied voice came from off screen.
"And that's Kenma for you..." Kuroo groaned as he repositioned himself in bed, and then he smiled. "But putting him aside... I hope all is well. Um..." He scratched at his cheek, just below his eye. "I miss you guys. I miss you especially, Bokuto. Um... Hang in there, alright? Akaashi, don't give him a hard time, or you and I are going to fucking fight."
Bokuto smiled wide to those words. He would have laughed if he could.
A grin ghosted across Akaashi's lips as well, but it was quick to vanish.
"Well, I guess that's it for now. I would have Kenma say bye, too, but-" He turned his head to look around, "He left... the room...? Yeah, he left the room. So I'll just say bye for him! See you, Bokuto. Keep it cool. And remember, you're the best." He held his hand up in a "peace sign", and the video ended with him on screen.
Akaashi sighed. He thought the video had gone by too quickly, but it had actually lasted a little under thirty seconds.
"For a guy who's name is Kuroo, he sure is a colorful one." Akaashi sat up and placed his phone on the counter.
Bokuto nodded and looked up at Akaashi once again.
"You guys were best friends, huh...?"
Bokuto nodded once more. He struggled to raise a hand, and slowly he twirled his index finger in circles at the side of his head.
Akaashi snorted softly and leaned back in his seat.
"Is he crazy?"
The smile on Bokuto's lips grew just a little more, signifying that he'd answered yes to Akaashi's question.
It was moments like these that made Akaashi realize just how much of an innocent soul Bokuto really was. Every now and then, it would come to him that Bokuto was only twenty years old, and that fact would only weigh Akaashi down even more than it usually did. It hurt him to think that Bokuto had barely even experienced the joys of a young adult's life before that crippling disease had taken a hold of him. It was frustrating, it was infuriating, and it was overall saddening, but Akaashi could not show any of this. Not in front of Bokuto.
So instead of putting on a sour expression, Akaashi only kept a neutral one, like he always did. It was his best and only way to hide his pain.
Several hours had passed since the message from Kuroo, and both Bokuto and Akaashi didn't do much.
Without a voice, Bokuto couldn't keep up a conversation as well as he used to, no matter how hard he tried. And even if he could speak, he wouldn't have been able to talk for long considering the state he was in. His movements were uncoordinated and slow, and the only sounds he could manage were meek and most of the time inaudible. At times, Bokuto would do nothing but lie there in bed, twitching back awake whenever his body tried so desperately to fall into the sleeping state that it once knew. When this would happen, he'd pull a frustrated expression for only a moment before his face grew too tired to hold it any longer.
When Bokuto was like this, Akaashi would normally look away to spare himself the sight of it all. But on rare occasions, there were times when he'd have no choice but to watch Bokuto fall apart at the hands of his illness, and he hated it.
For every time Akaashi would witness this, his mind would repeat one phrase, whether he wanted to hear it or not.
This is what a dying person looks like.
Looking down swiftly, Akaashi's sights locked onto his hands. He glared at them intensely with that same placid expression of his, making this look all the more unnerving. He wanted the thought to leave his mind. He wanted nothing to do with it. He forced those words away and replaced them with new ones. Ones that said, He's not dying. He's going to be fine.
But as he thought of it, as he narrowed down the true meanings of both phrases, he ultimately could not decide which of the two were more horrifying.
Akaashi closed his eyes and heaved out a sigh, feeling more and more hopeless with each passing second. He feared he wouldn't be able to pull himself out of this state, but then it occurred to him that he was not alone in this.
He felt the gentlest of taps against his arm, and he turned his head to meet eyes that were as concerned as they were exhausted. Akaashi sat up straight and composed himself.
"I'm fine." He commented softly, leaning back in his seat. "How are you feeling, Koutarou?"
Bokuto blinked slowly. This was his way of saying he was feeling alright. Not great, but alright.
Akaashi pursed his lips and nodded once. He found himself unable to say anything else, figuring that Bokuto wouldn't have anything to say either, but he was wrong.
Again, he felt the light tapping against his arm. Surprised, Akaashi gave Bokuto his attention again.
"Hm? What is it?" He turned the chair so that he was now facing Bokuto from the front.
Gazing up at Akaashi, Bokuto frowned and tried to form some words, but failed in the end. He looked around and moved his fingers, trying to make out a phone. Akaashi picked this up quickly, and he pulled his phone out for Bokuto to use. He opened his notes application and held the device in front of Bokuto. It was then that he started to inaccurately press at words that he was trying to make out. It took him some time to get down what he wanted to say, but after several minutes, he withdrew his hand.
Akaashi looked at his phone to read the sentence. It read:
"If I knew those words I spoke a week ago would have been my last, I would have chosen them more carefully."
Akaashi stared intensely at the screen, then tore his gaze away and looked back to Bokuto.
"You weren't happy with those words?"
Slowly, Bokuto nodded.
"Well then, if you had a second chance..." Akaashi hesitated. He almost didn't want to ask the question. "What would you have chosen to say?"
Just as those words left Akaashi's mouth, the clouds outside parted, allowing the setting sun's orange light to flood into the room. It illuminated both Bokuto and Akaashi, and they squinted at the same time. Despite this, Akaashi did not miss the look of slight nervousness that claimed Bokuto's features.
He was now more curious than he'd ever been before.
"Um... Bokuto? You don't have to say it now if you don't want to."
Bokuto shook his head.
"So... You don't want to?"
He shook his head again, stronger this time.
"Ah, you do want to say it now."
This time, a weak sound left Bokuto's throat through a closed mouth, and he nodded.
"Alright." Akaashi shifted in his seat, now timid. He glanced to the side. "How many words are there? In what you want to say, I mean?"
Responding as slowly as ever, Bokuto raised one hand. On that one hand, three fingers stuck out.
Akaashi felt his heart sink to his stomach. Another shudder threatened to rattle him, but he kept himself still, as difficult as that was.
"Three words? That's all?" Akaashi forced a smile. They felt mandatory now. "That's interesting..."
Please... Please don't say them.
He reached his arm out and held his phone in front of Bokuto for him to type.
Please don't type them... I don't want to hear them. I don't want to read them. I don't want to know them.
For what felt like an eternity, Bokuto typed the words on Akaashi's phone. His hand wobbled so much that it was impossible to decipher which letters he was hitting. Akaashi was close to holding his breath before Bokuto had finally drew his hand back. He let it fall over his stomach, and there it rested. His golden eyes searched the room for Akaashi. When he'd finally found him, those shining eyes of his lit up just a little more than usual. And with that glint came his smile. It was small and measly, but there.
Akaashi made sure to take a mental picture of this before he looked down and closed his eyes. He gripped his phone in his hand and took in a deep breath, filling his lungs with all the air that he could before he exhaled through his nostrils. He turned his phone so that it was facing him, opened his eyes, and read the three words that would haunt him forever.
... Or so he thought.
Akaashi's eyes widened slightly, and his eyebrows knit together in surprise. What sat upon the screen was not what he thought it would be, but rather... A simple compliment.
"You are beautiful."
Freezing in his seat, Akaashi read the words ten times over before he finally looked up. He could feel his heartbeat thumping hard against his chest, as if it wanted to break free. His eyes locked onto Bokuto's.
"You... Think that I'm beautiful?" He asked this in a tone of disbelief.
Mustering a weak nod, Bokuto's lips curled at the sides just a bit more. With this, he raised a quivering hand and his index finger. He was trying to tell Akaashi something else.
Guessing quickly, Akaashi muttered, "One?"
Bokuto kept his finger up, then moved his hand to point it at himself. He did not give Akaashi time to voice his guess as he then moved his finger to point at his eye, then finally at Akaashi.
Weakly, Akaashi parted his lips. He almost couldn't find his voice, but when he did, he tried his best to keep it from shaking.
"Since... The first day you saw me..."
To this, Bokuto's arm fell and rested lightly on his stomach. He did the only thing that he could and nodded again, then closed his eyes, and slightly turned his head away.
Akaashi watched curiously as Bokuto's lips quivered into a wide grin, and as the light captured his features, Akaashi realized just how embarrassed Bokuto actually was.
His face glowed the quietest shade of red, and he tried to hide it from Akaashi. It seemed that, after finally hearing his pent up thoughts aloud, they had frayed his nerves more than he thought they would.
Seeing this display unfold before him, Akaashi could barely think. His heart beat a mile a minute, he found it difficult to swallow, and one of his legs bounced up and down rapidly. He didn't know how to react, didn't know what to do or say, but as he searched for the right words to speak, or the right thing to do, Akaashi found himself doing something he didn't expect of himself.
A light hearted laugh bubbled out from deep within his chest, and the sound filled the room as soon as it hit the air. He laughed hard, or at least as hard as he could. His voice was gentle, light on Bokuto's ears. It caused him to open his eyes and look in Akaashi's direction, astonished. Those honey-hued eyes took in all that they could of Akaashi's laughing face. The way his lips curled at the corners, the way his eyes squinted just enough so that only a glint of green could be seen. Bokuto captured it all, and in no time, he found himself laughing too.
It was a quiet laugh. It was so weak and feeble, it could barely be heard, but it was there, and Akaashi could hear it, so that was enough for Bokuto. His face still wore the same shade of red, but he no longer minded this. He was happy where he was. He was happy that he'd admitted those words. He was glad that Akaashi found company in him.
Finding a breath between his laughter, Akaashi managed to speak.
"You're... Ridiculous." He said lightheartedly, his fingers trembling around his phone.
Bokuto gave him a look that could only be read as, "I am, aren't I?"
Slowly, Akaashi's laugh eased into a chuckle, and as he sat there in his seat, he looked down at Bokuto with placid eyes. A genuine expression made its home on Akaashi's features, and a hand reached up to push through his raven locks.
"Thank you, Koutarou." He whispered softly, his voice shaking in his throat. He reached a hand out and found Bokuto's.
Bokuto tightened his grasp in that automatic way he always did. He stared up at Akaashi with that smile that never seemed to fade. His eyes read,
"You're welcome, Keiji."
February 2nd.
What time is it?
Akaashi stirred in bed slightly and let out a weak grunt. He didn't bother to check. He didn't care.
The sky was already black. He figured it was already past five in the afternoon. So he didn't care anymore. He didn't care if it was seven at night, or eight at night, or twelve in the morning, or if the world's clock stopped moving altogether.
All he cared about was the fact that Bokuto was still with him, next to him, breathing, alive.
All he cared about was the fact that Bokuto Koutarou was still there.
Akaashi moved his head to the side and touched his forehead to Bokuto's neck.
Bokuto's movements were late to this, but he reacted nonetheless as he turned Akaashi's way to touch his chin to the top of his head. The soft touch of Akaashi's hair against his chin comforted Bokuto, and pulled him into a relaxed state.
Akaashi liked it when this happened. It would cause less spasms to grip Bokuto's body, allowing him to unwind more than he usually could. Akaashi didn't know why he had this effect on him, but he did, and that was all that mattered to him.
The day was exceptionally cold, but Akaashi was glad to know that the hospital's room provided enough heat to keep Bokuto from freezing over. But even so, Bokuto still suffered from trembling spells, and they would come in small, short bursts and last only several seconds before his body became too weak to keep it up.
Akaashi always made sure to hold Bokuto close and squeeze him tight whenever this happened, just to let him know that he was there for him. That he wasn't another one of those illusions his mind would create. Akaashi would also murmur quiet things to him from time to time, to keep up a small, often one sided conversation. He'd usually ask yes or no questions, ones that were easy for Bokuto to answer with a nod or shake of the head. But sometimes, he wouldn't answer certain questions, despite Akaashi asking them twice.
He wouldn't always get answers, Akaashi was aware of this, but he would still ask him things. At other times, he would just tell him things that were on his mind.
It was strange how the less Bokuto asked, the more Akaashi found himself saying.
Relaxing his head against the crook of Bokuto's neck, Akaashi blinked wearily and stared off into the distance. He focused on nothing... Something he remembered Kenma doing. His hand held onto one of Bokuto's very thin arms, and his thumb would occasionally rub up and down to comfort him. They shared the same navy blue knit blanket and huddled up beneath it, keeping each other warm in the best way that they could. As Akaashi lay there, quiet, listening to Bokuto's strained breathing, he opened his mouth to speak.
"Koutarou?"
He spoke just loudly enough for Bokuto to hear him. He felt him move against his head in response, so he continued. He drew in a deep breath and blinked away the stinging in his eyes.
"I want you to know that... I don't regret meeting you."
Bokuto didn't move much. He just breathed now.
"I am... Very happy to have met you. And to have gotten to know you..."
Akaashi paused for a long moment and said nothing for a while. But then he spoke up again.
"So... Thank you, Koutarou, for talking to me me in the hall that day... And asking me if I was alright. Because I wasn't, then. But... I am, now."
Slipping his head down to Bokuto's chest, Akaashi leaned against his frail frame. Akaashi listened to the quickened rate of Bokuto's still beating heart, and knew that this was his response to his words.
Akaashi closed his eyes against him. He found he had nothing more to say. He instead allowed his actions to speak for him. He pulled himself closer to Bokuto, and nudged his face into the warmth of his neck. He could feel Bokuto's chin rubbing against the top of his head, like it always did. It never failed to comfort Akaashi. He breathed in that familiar scent that he'd grown so attached to, then exhaled quietly against Bokuto's prominent collar bone.
Akaashi could feel a weak, ailing arm pull itself up to rest upon his shoulder. To this, he shifted in closer and allowed his body to relax. His breathing evened out and in no time, he could feel himself slipping, slowly, into the warm grasp of sleep, unable to resist.
In a daze, Akaashi's last words were, "Good night, Koutarou," before he slipped off into a deep sleep.
He dreamt of nothing in particular that night. He suffered no nightmares, nor did he see anything remotely close to a dream. There was nothing. There was only blackness.
Akaashi woke up to the feeling of sunlight against his face. It was warm on him, certainly something that one would find comforting, but as he stirred in bed, he was certain that something was off.
He kept his eyes half-lidded and his movements reserved, clinging onto the false hope that Bokuto wasn't moving because he didn't want to wake him. But Akaashi knew that this wasn't the case. He just didn't want to accept it.
Stretching out a trembling arm, Akaashi took hold of Bokuto's hand. He shut his eyes and squeezed his palm. It was cold. His hand trembled harder with each passing second, as if the movement would cause Bokuto to wake up. Akaashi's face buried into the crook of his neck. He nudged the bridge of his nose against the cool skin. His lips brushed against his collarbone in desperate search of that familiar warmth. Both hands had clasped around Bokuto's own now, quavering without pause. He couldn't find his pulse.
Devastation weighed down on Akaashi in that instant. It was a surreal feeling, one that he could never in one million years describe. It squeezed him, threatening to crush him from the inside out. The pain seared itself into his soul, hindering him, rendering him speechless to a point where he no longer knew what words were.
A sob wretched its way out from Akaashi's throat.
He tried desperately to hold it in. Tried so hard to keep himself together, but he knew he was too weak to pull such a bluff. Once the second sob had left him, he felt himself spiraling. There was no hiding it. He was undone.
His body jerked with each sob that was torn from him, his frame curling to bring himself closer. He held his face against the corpse's neck, just beneath the jawline, breathing in all that was left of Bokuto.
He had so many things he'd wanted to do with him, so many things he'd wanted to say, but all of those things seemed to have fallen away once the moment had finally come. Akaashi wanted to scream, but he couldn't find his voice. Not even a sentence could get past his suffering.
He kept himself against Bokuto and held onto him with what little strength he had left in him. He didn't get up to alert the nurses, or the doctors, or anyone in the hospital. He knew that once they found out, they would take Bokuto away from him.
So he stayed in place, holding onto Bokuto, taking in his company for one last time before he'd never see him again.
Once Akaashi had left the hospital, he never looked back.
He walked home that day with a balled up blanket in his arms, a burgundy scarf around his neck, and nothing more from the hospital. He held them against his frame in the twenty degree weather, and though many people gave him strange looks and watched him side-ways, none of this affected him in the slightest. The cold was no longer a factor to Akaashi. He couldn't feel it. His mind wouldn't allow him to.
He made it home without so much as a hello to his parents who sat in the living room. They asked him questions. He answered blatantly. They asked about the blanket and the scarf, but they never asked about Bokuto.
Akaashi was glad. It was a good idea to have never told them about him after all.
He ascended the steps to his room, balled his – no – Bokuto's blanket up into a lump, and dropped it onto his bed along with the scarf. He reached into his pocket to fish out his phone, and pushed call on one of his contacts. He held it up to his ear and waited for the other line to pick up. Once it did, Akaashi was greeted with a, "Hello?"
Akaashi hesitated. He swallowed thickly and looked out the window.
"Hello. Kuroo? It's Akaashi. Are you busy?"
Kuroo's voice was reserved and reluctant.
"No, I'm not."
"If it isn't too much trouble, may I come over?"
Kuroo was quiet on the other end. He already knew. He inhaled audibly, and Akaashi could hear a scratching sound. After a moment, he finally spoke. His voice was solemn.
"Sure."
Akaashi sat at the edge of Kuroo's bed, and he stared out the window without focus. Kuroo spoke to him, and Akaashi listened and often responded. But most of the time, he only sat there and continued to watch nothing.
Kuroo would have been concerned if not for finding out what had happened earlier that day. He was much like Akaashi, sitting on the same side of the bed, a good distance apart from his visitor. Those yellow eyes of his would often dart to the floor, then to the ceiling, around the room, and back to the floor, but he would never look at Akaashi.
He feared that if he did, he wouldn't be able to keep his emotions at bay.
"How did he look?" Kuroo asked with a hushed tone.
It took Akaashi a while to respond.
"When I woke up?"
"Yeah..." Kuroo looked down.
Akaashi let out a half-assed grunt and continued to stare forward.
"Pale. Sick. Dead."
"How did you find out that he wasn't... There anymore?"
"His entire body was relaxed. His head rested on mine with the weight of someone's who's unconscious."
This time, Kuroo was the one to grunt, the sound coming from deep within his chest. He was slow to speak up again, but did either way.
"Are you going to his funeral?"
"No."
The answer came so much more quickly than Kuroo thought it would. It shocked him as Akaashi continued.
"I refuse to go. My last memory of Bokuto will not be of him sharply dressed, pale, stiff, and stuffed in a casket, surrounded by a countless amount of people who did not care for him at all until the day they heard about his death. My last memory of Koutaro is already with me, and it will die along with me."
Akaashi's tone was monotonous, but Kuroo didn't fail to detect the venom that lined each word prior to his last sentence. He understood where Akaashi was coming from and didn't even think of holding his icy tone against him. Kuroo was just as bitter. He, too, did not intend on showing up to any funeral. He'd be furious with everyone in there, and he knew that the same pain burned within Akaashi, too.
Kuroo leaned forward and joined his hands together. He stared at the wall and bounced one leg up and down as his emotions slowly started to reclaim him.
"You know... Um..." He looked down and rubbed his neck roughly, leaving behind deep, red marks. "Bokuto, he... He really liked- uh- cared about you... He talked about you all the time when he first met y-"
"Don't."
Kuroo froze. With his hand clinging to his neck, he slowly looked up to find that Akaashi was staring back at him with vacant eyes, void of all known emotion.
"Don't, Kuroo. Just... Don't."
He swallowed thick, and turned his head to stare out the window again. Akaashi laced his fingers together and dug his nails into the backs of his hands. He was redirecting the pain.
"Sorry." It was the last word Kuroo murmured before he stared forward as well, having nothing more to say.
They shared each other's company in silence for what felt like the length of five minutes, and in that time, Akaashi never once looked to the side to catch a glimpse at Kuroo. It wasn't until he watched Kuroo's form double over in his peripheral that Akaashi did glance in his direction, and when he did, he was greeted with a quietly sobbing Kuroo, his face having been buried in the palms of his hands. Though is was delayed, Akaashi moved on instinct and sat near Kuroo. He placed a hand on his broad back and rubbed gently, hoping to comfort him and to be the stronger of the two. But as each second passed, Akaashi could feel his own pain building up more and more within him. He wished he could fight it, but he knew there was no possible way for him to.
It wasn't long before Akaashi had leaned his head on Kuroo's shoulder, as he, too, fell victim to the sorrow that slowly ate him alive.
It had been three days since Bokuto's passing, and surely enough, sleep did not come to Akaashi as easily as it used to. In the span of those three days, he had only acquired a little over four hours of sleep in total. On the first night out of the three, Akaashi flat out refused to get any rest in fear of suffering another night terror. But during the other two nights, he surely did make the effort to try and lull himself to sleep, but each time he did, he either found himself stirring awake from a strange dream, or lying wide awake in the middle of the night, half expecting to receive a message from Bokuto.
At times, Akaashi would look through the conversations that he'd shared with him. He'd scroll up, up, up until the first text, then would scroll all the way down again, waiting for the ellipse to appear on the lower left side of the screen. But always, he'd receive nothing.
That night was no different as Akaashi repeated this action for the twentieth time that day, his thumb scrolling up and down for minutes on end until he finally came to a stop. When he had, however, instead of shutting his phone off and trying to force a few hours of sleep upon himself, Akaashi stared at the phone screen longingly, and read the last messages that were sent between them.
Bokuto (Sent at 2:15 AM, December 20th):
[Hey! Akaashiiiii. Are you awake?]
Akaashi:
[Yes, I am. What is it?]
Bokuto:
[I'm excited for you to come over tomorrow!]
Akaashi:
[I visit you every day, though.]
Bokuto:
[I know! You never miss a day... Don't your parents ever ask why you come here so much?]
Akaashi:
[They think I'm interning. So they don't mind.]
Bokuto:
[Oh! Works for me. ٩( 'ω' )و]
Akaashi:
[I would hope so. It works for me as well. I'll be sure to bring my laptop when I visit. We can watch Cloud Atlas again.]
Bokuto:
[YES! PLEASE! Thank you, Akaashi!]
December 20th at 3:45 AM
[You probably fell asleep. Sorry for always messaging you so late. Sleep well, Akaashi! I'll see you soon.]
Akaashi frowned and felt that familiar pain pierce his chest. He re-read 'Sleep well, Akaashi!' and inhaled with frailty.
"I'm trying..."
He couldn't bring himself to read over the last four words of the text again and ultimately shut off his phone. He placed it on the counter near his bedside and buried himself into the blanket that he had so openly shared with Bokuto. Akaashi inhaled deeply and closed his eyes, his eyebrows knitting together as his brow creased. It still smelled like him.
Akaashi relaxed himself against his mattress and closed his eyes, a powerless yawn leaving him. His head eased into his pillow, and to his surprise, within a matter of minutes, he could feel himself slipping. It felt strange, not falling asleep against Bokuto's body, but Akaashi knew that he would have to get used to this form of sleeping by his lonesome once again. He just hoped that the night wouldn't bring him any malevolent dreams. All he wanted was to see Bokuto again, even if just for a second. An exhausted breath left him, and Akaashi finally fell asleep.
That night, he dreamt of the first night Bokuto had come over his home. He dreamt of how Bokuto had buried himself into the navy blue blanket to watch the movie that played on the laptop screen, and how he held Bokuto in his arms that night to aid him in his attempt to sleep. He could still remember the small details, like how Bokuto's starry shirt would slip off his shoulder every so often when he stirred in bed, and how the feel of Bokuto's weight on him would take his breath away. Akaashi could still feel the sensation of his wild white and black hair brushing against his cheek whenever he moved, and the warmth that came from him as he held him close. It was all still there, but there was something different about it all that puzzled Akaashi.
At one point in his dream, Akaashi looked out the window. The night sky had suddenly become a pale blue, and the warm orange glow of the sun slowly spread across the horizon. He turned his head slowly to look at Bokuto, and watched him as he lay in his arms. Akaashi said his name, and to this, Bokuto stirred awake. He turned his head and met Akaashi's gaze with weary, well rested eyes. He stretched and stifled a yawn, pushed a hand through the mess that was his hair, and relaxed his head against Akaashi's shoulder.
Sunlight broke into the room, cascading all along the walls and floor, and casting shadows all around. It lit Bokuto's face up just enough for Akaashi to take in those healthy features that were staring back at him. He felt his heart rate accelerate, and his throat tightened as his vision blurred. Bokuto beamed at him with a smile that spoke a thousand words, and his hand reached out to touch Akaashi's cheek. Akaashi felt his palm- warm, full, caressing the round of his face. He leaned into his touch, and his vision began to fade, his eyes welling with tears.
Bokuto leaned in and touched his forehead to Akaashi's. He was only a blurred shape now, but Akaashi knew he was still there. Bokuto spoke, his voice peaceful. Healthy. Whole.
"I found you."
A trembling, tender laugh escaped Akaashi. He smiled.
"You found me."
— The End — Write a review
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone