A Prince's Character {A Bokuaka Fanfiction}

Chapter VII

3rd Person POV:

Akaashi pulls the wagon over to the singeing fire wood and grabs the logs. Wincing, he tosses them into the wagon. The heat is still visible but Akaashi needs to get the wood out of here. Burning his hands, Akaashi finishes loading the logs up and orders Yaku to get rid of spare ones in storage while he takes the old ones out. He holds the handles of the cart and pushes it out of the of the common room and out of the Soldier Quarters. His hands tremble from the pain of the burns on his palms and fingers. Once outside he dumps the old logs into a disposable area and catches his breath. He collapses into the grass and rests his burning hands.

He tears off his cloth around his face and slowly looks at his burned hands. He would classify them as 2nd degrees burns but he needs them to be treated when possible. He acted in the spur of the moment and gave up his hands to get the source out of the room. Akaashi rests on his knees and begins watching the sunset in front of him fall behind the palace walls. Of the palace grounds, there are 5 sections. The Main Castle, the Medical Wing, the Soldier Quarters, the Stables, and the forest or Training area. Yes, there is a forest on castle grounds and all of it is surrounded by a wall. He looks up and closes his eyes as the autumn breeze rushes through his hair and onto his cheeks. Crisp and cool, it all calms his raging fever.

The one thing Akaashi has always struggled to do when faced with the care of others was to care for himself. Whenever Akaashi woke up sore from overworking, he always got up to make sure others were given their medicine batches. The only time he did stop was when he was sick and could infect others and cause more harm than good. Now, Akaashi has burned hands and has mild side affects from the particles in the wood. He'll have to treat his burns at the very least first before tending to the men.

"Keiji?! Are you okay?!" Bokuto yells as he rushes over. He kneels beside him and is taken back by the sight of Akaashi's burned hands. Bokuto tends to call Akaashi by his first name when they are alone. To him, it's a sign of respect, friendship, and trust.

"What did you do?" Bokuto questions as Akaashi slowly explains what happened, how when the wood burns, it releases harmful toxins and particles into the air, making it hard to breathe. Along with how he needed to get it away from the men before it got worse. Akaashi asks why he's out here and Bokuto simply says he rushed to finish his work so he could come help.

"Come on, let's get you back inside and I'll help your hands as best as I can." Bokuto slowly helps Akaashi up and the younger lays into him for a bit to regain balance. Bokuto holds Akaashi's waist and walks back the Soldier's Quarters.

After telling Bokuto what to do, Akaashi's hands are wrapped and in healing. Akaashi helps Yaku in making the soup everyone needs and begins serving each man a bowl. Akaashi steps away from everyone to rest a bit and catch his breath.

Bokuto looks at the men and asks each one a question, Where did the logs come from? Each one responds with something along the lines of 'Travelers.' Bokuto thanks them before heading out into the hall to see a resting Akaashi leaning against the wall. Gently, he hugs him from behind. Akaashi turns his head a bit to see Bokuto's head on his shoulder.

"I'll be right back. I need to take care of something. When I come back, I don't want to find you challenging a sword or grabbing burning logs you beautiful hazard." Bokuto whispers as he hides his face in the warm neck of Akaashi. Akaashi blushes a soft red before responding.

"I'll be careful, Kotaro.." Akaashi thinks of the name he called him, beautiful hazard. To be honest, Akaashi doesn't want the moment to end. He wants to stay like this as the seasons past from winter to spring, and from the next spring to the next.

Bokuto let's go of him before turning him around and placing a kiss on his forehead. He smiles a warm smile at the raven beauty before walking off and heading to his study, his hand on his sword.