Believer

16

Bokuto wanted to start a band, he really did. But he also thoroughly enjoyed volleyball. And he wanted to maintain good grades. 

He could say he was scared his dad wouldn't be supportive. 

But then he would simply be making up excuses. Isamu was always supportive, no matter what Bokuto did or decided to do. And he made sure Bokuto thought things out in all aspects before making rash decisions. All because he cared about his son and his son's happiness. So no, Bokuto could not make up any valid excuses for not starting a band. 

However, he was blatantly aware that he did need more members than just a guitarist and pianist for a band. And then he needed to figure out what type of music everyone wanted to play and maybe create their own songs. 

Maybe. 

A lot went into building a band, including being able to harvest the unbridled passion of multiple people playing instruments. 

Bokuto bit his lip as he thought about it. 

It had been a couple days since the hangout and Bokuto felt himself slipping. He wasn't necessarily depressed nor ecstatic. Actually, he was in the inbetween of melancholy and dreamy. 

Nostalgia flickered through his mind as he remembered all the times his mother and him would play a duet on the piano. His father would be sitting on the couch, watching intently as he felt the music and joy ripping through the air as notes flew off the pages. 

He felt good performing for his father when he was younger. 

He felt good performing as he was older too. 

But it just didn't feel the same without his mother's comforting energy next to him as he played. 

Bokuto's phone was dead, as it usually wasn't charged when he slipped. His mind would go on survival mode where he would either overanalyze the smallest thing or shut down completely. A heavy burden was on his shoulders and he felt utterly exhausted. 

He couldn't sleep nor eat right. His eyes had major bags and his hair was droopy. His coach, ever observant of his team, noticed Bokuto's despondent state. Since he knew of Bokuto's detrimental mood swings and waning mental health, he gave the teen more leeway to rest and get back in the rhythm of volleyball. 

Bokuto felt like the world was moving at a fast pace while he was being pushed along, his inner mind caving in. 

So he decided to skip practice today, knowing that his coach would understand. 

When he got home, he immediately went to the piano. It had been quite a bit since he had actually played it, especially as of late. Instead of itching to play, he simply felt drawn to the musical instrument and within moments he found himself seated at its stool. 

His warm up took longer than usual, as he was not necessarily feeling inspired. Soon though, he found himself getting lost in the lullaby of his sadness. He began pouring his inner turmoil through his fingers and onto the keys. 

He didn't even register when his father came home early from work. 

Or when a knock sounded on the door, which was then opened moments later. 

He didn't even notice when another body sat next to him on the bench. 

Only when he felt a slight pressure on his shoulder did he finish up his song and come back to his surroundings. 

He blinked a few times before fully realizing Akaashi was a) in his house and b) leaning his head on Bokuto's shoulder. 

Bokuto sighed, and Akaashi slowly lifted his head off the order's shoulder and looked Bokuto in the eye. 

His face was tired, eyebags ever prominent, hair messy and even some of his musculature becoming less defined. It was obvious the teen wasn't taking care of himself and Akaashi wanted to know why. 

"Bokuto, what's wrong?" He signed slowly. 

Bokuto hadn't even smiled yet, much less talked, but after Akaashi asked, something broke within the teen. 

Bokuto's lip began to wobble, his eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly, and his hands began to shake as he brought them up to sign. 

"Hug?" 

Akaashi, who is usually not big on physical contact, couldn't find it within himself to deny Bokuto of a hug. So he gave in and opened his arms. Almost immediately, the shaking figure of Bokuto fell into the warm embrace. 

Akaashi sat there, holding Bokuto and rubbing his back, feeling the shaky inhales and exhales of the teen. He comforted the duel-haired teen as much as he could, for as long as Bokuto wanted it. But eventually the older teen pulled away softly and wiped his tears away with the sleeves of his sweatshirt. 

His face was blotchy and damp, yet still a stray tear slipped from his eyes. 

Once calmed, Akaashi took Bokuto's limp hand in his own and squeezed reassuringly. He wasn't going to push Bokuto to talk unless he felt comfortable. So together they sat, looking at the piano in front of them, relaxing in each other's company.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Later that night, they found themselves in Bokuto's room. Akaashi was spinning in a chair, watching the world go round and round. Bokuto was laying on his bed, throwing one of his many volleyballs up in the air only to catch it seconds later. 

He had gotten all his tears out, his emotions were much less muddled. He snuck a glance at the spinning Akaashi. 

The raven haired teen was enjoying himself, basking in the chair's movement and thinking to himself. 

Bokuto felt himself smiling. His lips stayed upturned for a few seconds before slipping down once more. I guess I should explain things to Akaashi…

He just had to find a way to put his emotions into words. And hope Akaashi stuck around afterwards…

Usually Bokuto's friends and teammates only stayed close to him when he was exciting and hyper. As soon as the tide changed, they flocked around someone else and the cycle continued. 

But Akaashi wouldn't do that…would he?