The Weeping; The Willows

Part I

New Orleans was hot, and not for the first time Akaashi wondered why he still lived in the godforsaken city. A soft bell jingled over the door and he called out a greeting. Then a vibration started in his body and he turned around quickly. Magic .

The edges of his sight went fuzzy as he walked to the front of the shop. There, outlined in the gold from the stained glass window was a tall, muscular man. He was built like a brick house, and he had a glow from within that rivaled the sun. There was something about this boy, no, he was older than Akaashi. He could sense that. But he was young in his heart. His grandmother would have called him a pure soul. Akaashi raised an eyebrow as the man's biceps rippled on display and decided while his heart was young, and his soul was pure, his body was most certainly made for sin in the best way.

But there was something else. It vibrated within Akaashi as though recognizing kin. Magic .

He was tilting his head as he examined a small potted mugwort on display. "Can I help you?" Akaashi asked when he was right behind the man.

The man's bright smile shifted when he put his eyes on Akaashi and his tongue darted out across his plush lips. Maybe he wasn't as pure a soul to begin with...

"Sir?" Akaashi tried again and the man shook his head before digging into a pocket of his crossbody. He handed Akaashi a note with a desperate look before glancing around the shop. " I need an exorcism."

Akaashi held up the note and said in a droll voice, "you could have just asked me, you know. You didn't have to be so secretive about it."

The man looked around again, "I didn't know if I would be able to."

Akaashi snorted, "Who'd stop you? The church?" He rolled his eyes and gestured for the man to follow. "Tell me what's happening. And your name, actually. That might come in handy."

He cleared his throat, "Bokuto. I mean- Koutarou. Koutarou Bokuto." He was new, still uncomfortable with western naming.

Akaashi nodded "Well, I'm Keiji Akaashi," Bokuto perked up at the name, "and you can call me Akaashi if it makes you more comfortable." He gestured for Bokuto to continue his story as he walked around the counter to sit at his chair. He ran his hand through his hair quickly as he looked under the counter for the correct books for reference.

Bokuto stared for a moment and then started like he'd been shocked, "Right- well, it started when I moved here a month ago?"

"Are you not sure when it started, or not sure when you moved in?" Akaashi didn't bother hiding his smirk with his nose buried in the book. But then the other man fell silent, and Akaashi glanced up only to find a confused expression on his face. "Hey, it's not that big of a deal." He said in a soothing voice. He set the book down and reached out a hand in comfort, before remembering not everyone appreciated physical touch as comfort. He pulled his hand back and rested it next to the book, leaning forward, "Sometimes stress can lead to confusion or lost time. It happens. But that does help me narrow things down," he adds quietly, beginning to flip through his book with purpose.

Bokuto perked up, "So you think you'll be able to help me?"

"Not right away," he quickly replied, wanting to set realistic expectations as soon as possible. Too many customers turned angry when they didn't get the immediate magic results they expected. And that anger fed their problems to a point that even Akaashi could no longer offer assistance. But like anything, magic takes time. He didn't want that for this ball of boundless energy.

Thankfully, Bokuto only nodded sagely. Akaashi smirked and turned away. He handed Bokuto a cache of repellant herbs, always his first step. If it were just a lost spirit or a weak curse, it would guide them away from the home. Bokuto lifted the small velvet bag to his nose and sniffed, Akaashi let out a huffed laugh, "Not the best idea to smell things when you don't know what they are." He said with a raised eyebrow.