Marked (BokuAka)

56. Pictures

Bokuto's POV:

The house was empty.

No lights, no sound, the grass untrimmed. From what he'd seen of Akaashi's house and his mom, that was severely out of the ordinary. As he snuck up to the door, he knocked twice, Konoha and Sarukui whispering behind him while Washio remained silent.

The 'T R A P' message meant nothing to Bokuto. Just a reminder of what he already knew: this was dangerous, and stupid, but Akaashi was in worse danger. Bokuto would save him, no matter what.

His phone was at the ready, emergency number prepared and papers with all the information they'd discovered hidden. His sister wouldn't find it, but if worst came to worst, the police would.

The door creaked open at the two knocks. They were a bit early, but Bokuto knew that Akaashi's mother wasn't one to be late.

"Ready, guys?" He murmured, the soft sound echoing through the solemn night. They tiptoed into the house, glancing around for any intruders or hidden attackers.

They all nodded, understanding the urgency. Though Akaashi's mom would already know if they were here, it was encoded into their DNA to be cautious around predators, and she definitely counted.

The place was clean, not a speck of dust on the cabinets nor dirt on the floor. I don't know what I expected. They haven't been gone for years or even weeks. It just looks too... domestic. Of course, the woman who resided here was anything but.

The four boys wandered the house, eyes trained to all crevices and items. There was nothing to indicate foul play, or anything but a family gone on vacation. "Do we have the wrong house?" Bokuto asked aloud, before picking up a family portrait. A picture of Akaashi's mom and him, obviously taken recently. The plastic, purposeful look of a photo setup made the background, and the lighting was much too perfect. Akaashi was smiling, but it was small and restrained. His hands lay lifeless beside his hips as his mother clutched his shoulders with a similar restrained smile.

Bokuto flipped the frame around, opening it up and removing the backing. A few pictures fell out, which he quickly picked up and studied. The next one was a toddler—Akaashi—and Akaashi's mother. They were smiling widely, Akaashi's chubby hand wrapped around his mom's.

The third one was a picture of a sunset and Akaashi on the beach waving and smiling. He seemed to be in kindergarten, a big gap-toothed smile on his face.

The fourth picture was weird. It was folded in half due to it being much to large to fit in the frame. One half was a young mother-to-be with a swollen stomach. She held the bump tenderly, smiling dreamily. It was, though very young, Akaashi's mom. A bruise marred her forearm with hearts and angry faces doodled on it. Already this was confusing and intriguing.

Bokuto unfolded it to look at the other side simultaneously and narrowed his eyes at the photo. A tall man, standing stiffly beside her. He smiled mechanically, eyes blank of any emotion. His hand looped around Akaashi's mom, clenched on to the side without touching her stomach. Angry faces and hearts also marked his forearm, with an enormous bruise on his arm. On his larger forearm, the bruise was more obvious. It was shaped like a hand.

Bokuto clicked his tongue. Something about the photo set him off. Probably the love in the woman's eyes and the cold in the man's. Perhaps the enormous bruise and the angry faces intermingled with the hearts. It was disturbingly scary.

And finally, the last picture. The same man holding a baby, Akaashi, far away from his body. Doodled hearts surrounded the picture, but the man's face was scratched out.

Bokuto tucked all the photos into his pockets before continuing through the house. "Bokuto! Upstairs! Now!" Konoha called out, and footsteps echoed as everyone ran to find him. Bokuto made it last, being downstairs and hence the farthest from Konoha.

They were all in Akaashi's room, gaping at the scene in front of them. The bed was messy and rumpled, with slightly noticeable footsteps on the rug. In the walk-in closet, there was a secret door that had opened, and one on the wall next to the bed too.

Bokuto whimpered before peeking into the secret door. Food wrappers littered the inside, and he ducked in to sounds of surprise. "Bokuto! What are you doing?"

"I need to know where it goes. You guys continue checking the house." Bokuto said, before turning to see them motionless. "Please?"

They all nodded warily and poked around Akaashi's room for a few minutes before leaving. "Please give me some clues, secret tunnel."

Other than the knowledge that whoever lived in here had a sweet tooth, after a few minutes raking the tunnels around Akaashi's room, Bokuto had nothing.

Actually, I have the realisation that I am contaminating evidence, so that's something.

Bokuto continued on throughout the house, the tunnels even having doors into Akaashi's mom's room, though no peepholes.

Unlike Akaashi's room. Fucking jerks watching him, and he didn't even know!

Bokuto emerged from the door in Akaashi's room again, sighing and shaking his head in defeat. "What did I expect to find here, anyway?"

"Me." A voice whispered into his ear as a needle was stabbed into his neck. "You expected to see me."

"Fuck you." Bokuto turned to look at Akaashi's mother before getting grabbed by two muscled men. "Where is Akaashi? Where is he? Tell me now, or I swear I will–"

"What?" Akaashi's mother grabbed his chin, pulling her face close to his. "You'll what? Hit me? Hurt me? Torture me? Kill me?"

"Yes!" Bokuto screamed, straining against the bodyguards. "Where are my friends, you psychopath?"

"Asleep. As you soon will be. In thirty seconds or so." She tousled his gelled hair before pinching it and rubbing the strands. "Your hair gel almost caused me some trouble. I could've lost some valuable time. But, honey," she touched her forehead to his. "Koutarou," Bokuto growled at her again. "Bokuto-san," she corrected. "Don't cause me any more, okay? Or else your friends, my son... well. They won't get to see their third year."

Bokuto ground his teeth, swallowing the lump in his throat as the world faded. "Night, night."

"I..." Bokuto slurred, going limp in the bodyguards' hands. "Hate... you."

"I know." She said, "And I don't care." The world disappeared, and the last thing he saw was her taunting smile.