Two Worlds Apart // BokuAka

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It was a dark moonlit snowy night of December 31. Couple more hours before the fireworks and noises start. Bokuto brought Akaashi along with him to buy fountains, firecrackers, and some other small fireworks from a sketchy man they met by the ally of a flea market nearby. Akaashi opposed, as he was suspicious of the item that was distributed by someone who's clearly not registered to sell them. Bokuto answered with the "We can't die boring." line.

Eventually, the taller man gave up, allowing the greyhead to face the consequences of his upcoming actions. As the night deepened, distant noises filled the air. "Say, you never told me what your type is when it comes to girls," Bokuto said, trying to spark a conversation, hoping for an answer from Akaashi. A cold breeze swept by, causing them to shiver slightly.

"I'm not really interested with those kinds of stuff, Bokuto-san." Eh? Bokuto tilted his head, hands in the pockets of his thick dark coat. "And why is that?" he asked, as snowflakes began to fall on his coat, dotting it with delicate white specks. 

"I want to be more focused with the things I'm working on." Bokuto let out a chuckle, playfully stumbling himself onto Akaashi's shoulder. "You'll really say that now? Nice joke, Akaashi!" Though it sounds lame to admit, 'fun' isn't always something to be thought of when you're close to death. Reality hits like a truck. There's fear driving you to different thoughts. It conceals itself with carefreeness, but it's there. Always has been.

He sighed, placing his hand on Akaashi's shoulder. "There should be something, yeah? Just types and all that." He'd hug himself from the sudden breeze once again. "Colder than last year."

"I can't make myself think of those things in this state." He finally answered, though it wasn't the response Bokuto had hoped for. "Love and leave. Hah. What a trope," Akaashi muttered. Just then, a nearby firework exploded in the neighborhood, its noise cutting through the night. Bokuto, always impulsive, grabbed Akaashi's arm and dragged him towards the source of the sound.

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The person was unexpected. They thought it was someone random. But the familiar messy black bed hair gave him away. He stood in front of a single skyrocket firecracker placed in a tall glass bottle. With a lighter that had a long nozzle, he lit the fuse. They watched as the firecracker shot up with a whistling sound, followed by a loud boom as it exploded in the sky, filling the air with colorful sparks.

"Kuroo-san?" Akaashi called, hoping it was the right person. The man looked back at them, recognition dawning on his face. "Shit, Akaashi? Bokuto-san?" He walked closer, squinting his eyes to see through the dimly lit atmosphere. The streetlight ahead of them cast just enough light to outline his figure, but not enough to clearly see their face.

"It's you guys. Been a while," he said with a smile from a distance. He wore a trench coat with a fur collar. He signaled for them to come closer, and so they did, stepping into the light that barely illuminated the street. 

One look at Bokuto, and Kuroo had slightly widened eyes, raised eyebrows, and slightly parted lips. "Bokuto..." The owl chuckled, not shocked by the usual reaction people had upon seeing him. His eyes softened as he glanced at Akaashi beside him, then back to Kuroo. 

"Are we gonna light more fireworks or no?" Bokuto asked with a smile, his eyes crinkling in a way Kuroo hadn't seen since high school. Kuroo smiled back, giving him a reassuring look. No one commented on Bokuto's appearance—not Akaashi, not Kuroo. Was it acceptance? No. Maybe they're just too mindful to admit it in front of me. That, I cannot blame.

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After setting off a few firecrackers, Kuroo invited them inside his house to keep warm and save their remaining fireworks for later. There were still 1 hour and 37 minutes until the new year. His house felt cozy, yet empty, a sensation they all shared. "Where are your parents? How about Kenma?" Bokuto asked out of nowhere.