Predictability.
Keiji's inclination to sticking to routines was charged by his anxieties and stress to provide himself with an anchor of stability in order to soothe them. Now that it was tampered by Bokuto, he has had less and less time to catch up with assignments and had work on top of that - and it didn't help that Keiji forgot to factor in the unpredictable dates that Bokuto often schemed.
Despite the disruption in his routine, he's never been more grateful in his life. Keiji found himself no longer dreading to get up in the mornings, his usual frown replaced with a small smile as he texts Bokuto 'good morning'. He found himself excited to go about a new day, to hear about Bokuto's, and catch up with his reading when offered the chance.
Not only was he enjoying life now, he was inspired and motivated to write his poetry once again.
Today though, he won't have the time. Today was a particularly stressful day on Keiji's wobbly schedule; a full day of classes followed by a shift at the library and it didn't help that after work was his only chance this week to get his homework done tiredly, exhausted from the day he's had. It didn't help further when the storm rolled in that evening.
As childish as it was, Keiji was afraid of storms. He despised the pit in his stomach that formed when the dark clouds coughed out incessant gouts of water, the wind that followed the heavy rain was powerful enough to destroy trees and cars. He despised the way he'd flinch at every clap of thunder and the way he'd shrink into himself at each unpredictable flash of light.
Keiji truly did try to focus on his assignment. He tried to force his mind to focus on the blurry words on the bright screen in front of him - his shaky hands making too many typos and brain swamped in too many thoughts. He didn't even realise his breathing was starting to get shallow until the power went out.
" Shit ,"
That was it for Keiji. Trapped in the dark, his mind was too scattered to remember where the candles were. His vision was blurry from scared tears and his body was trembling more and more each time thunder roared through the sky. Not only was he freaking out over a storm but now he couldn't even get his assignment in on time. He felt himself hyperventilating, feeling utterly stupid at his childish fear and his academic failure. The stress and anxiety mixed together in his lungs, filling them up with a sea of doubts and insecurities. He was a failure. He was going to fail that class and not get his degree and all he could hear through the flurry of thoughts was the ringing in his ears from the loud bangs outside.
He was drowning. He was going to die here alone in his apartment surrounded by empty coffee mugs, incomplete assignments and drafts of failed poems; the poems inspired by Bokuto, the one who brought excitement back into his life.
Bokuto.
Keiji scrambled for his phone, having to type the passcode three times with his shaking fingers before getting it right. He couldn't breathe. He needed help. Before he could talk himself out of it, he hit the call button.
"Hey, 'Kaashi! What's up! I thought you were busy today?"
Even just hearing his voice calmed Keiji down slightly.
"I-I..."
"'Kaashi...? Are you okay?" Bokuto's panicked tone was obvious in his words as Keiji practically wheezed into the phone, unable to form a coherent sentence.
"B-Bokuto s-san-" Keiji felt pathetic. He couldn't even speak properly. He felt even more pathetic as he let out a small whimper at the clap of thunder that cut him off.
"Akaashi, I'm coming to get you. Are you at your apartment?"
Keiji panicked. He didn't want to be a burden to Bokuto. Now he felt stupid for even calling. He was a failure and now Bokuto would see how pathetic he actually was, hiding in the corner of his room furthest from the window.
