Gang Of Youths • bokuaka

7 ~ Army Dreamers

When a human dies, do they twitch like an animal as the blood spills from them?

Akaashi told himself that the men they would be fighting would be warriors and that if you didn't strike first, then they would strike you.

They got word that there were men on the beach. A horn blew throughout the camp, drowning out the shouts of the men as they approached with their weapons.

This is what war is.

The men were soldiers, dressed in bronze silver armour and green robes. Akaashi watched as they placed their flag into the soil, the symbol of a snake blowing in the wind.

The man in the horse hair helmet shouted something to his men, though Akaashi could not make out what it was. But at once spears were fired at them, arrows soaring across the sky.

Akaashi looked to Bokuto who was already looking at him, his yellow eyes looking down at him. He did not seem alarmed, but there was something in his eyes; worry.

For the men, himself, or... Akaashi.

' Akaashi-' he did not get to finish his sentence as a spear came towards them. It pierced into a man's chest, driving him backwards. Bokuto ushered Akaashi back as he grabbed his sword.

The men did not stand a chance against him. Men cried out as they were stuck with the blade, blood spilling into the ground below them as they fell.

This was the son of a Goddess; this was a hero.

Akaashi stayed back, aiding the men in firing arrows towards them. He watched as some hit the ground, whereas some hit the enemy.

He spotted Bokuto. Blood stains his sword, dripping down onto the trampled grass of the battlefield. He lets out a breath, his eyes scanning his surroundings; a place that has come to know death as though it was a friend.

His white hair stuck to his forehead with sweat, a rough hand slicking it back.

The war had begun.

༄

They had fought many more battles as the weeks went on, losing men in the process.

The captains had gathered in the tent, around a table discussing a plan. They had heard news that the enemy was planning an attack and were thinking of ways to stop it.

Ushijima, a captain of another battalion spoke up, 'We cannot risk putting Bokuto at risk.'

He was right, he was their strongest soldier, and they could not bear to lose him as it meant losing this war.

'But the men are dying, how many more lives can we afford to lose?' Kita adds, walking over to the table, 'I do not like this idea, but it will scare them to know he is out there.'

Bokuto did not seem to be listening, watching as Akaashi approached.

Kuroo shook his head, 'No. We cannot do that. I spoke to one of my men, and he suggested that one of us go disguised as Bokuto.'

'A distraction?' Oikawa asked.

'Yes,' a new voice spoke up, walking towards the group. They each turned to see a man with long blonde hair approach them; Kenma.

Daichi sighed, 'It is a good plan, what do you think Bokuto.'

Bokuto looked at them, 'It is still risky, putting someone else at risk.'

'They do not have to fight, all we need is a distraction,' said Daichi, rubbing his arm, 'But who will do it?'

'We can think about-'

'I'll do it.'

They all turned to Akaashi. He could feel Bokuto clinging to his arm, 'Are you mad?'

Akaashi tried to ignore him, 'He is my Captain, I will do what I can to help him.'

༄

That night, when everyone was asleep Akaashi watched Bokuto pace around their small tent.

'You are foolish, putting yourself at risk?'

'Bokuto,' his voice was sharp but quiet, 'Let me do this for you.'

'No. I will not allow it, as your captain I order you to stay here, in this tent for the remainder of this war.'

'And if I disobey, if I go through with it anyway?'

Bokuto stared at him, 'You wouldn't.'

Akaashi stood up, walking towards him and taking his hands in his, 'I promise I will not fight. All I need to do is wear your armour, distract them as you attack.'

He continued to stare, shaking his head, 'I cannot allow it, it is too dangerous.'

'We have a plan to end this war, to save our country. Don't you see?' he squeezed his hands gently, 'Kenma's plans always work. This one will be no different.

Bokuto looked down at their hands before his eyes met Akaashi's again, 'You promise me you will be safe.'

'I promise.'

'I want you to swear it.'

Akaashi looked straight into his golden eyes, 'I swear it. This is only to frighten them. I will not fight; I will not be harmed.'

He nodded, leaning forward to kiss his lips gently.

༄

Bokuto had helped Akaashi into the armour. He buckled the straps tight against his skin in a swift motion. An armour of bronze and black robes.

He lifted the helmet, placing it over Akaashi's dark hair. It hid his face enough that people may think it was Bokuto.

He stood among the men, lined up in armour and coloured robes for their battalions. He was afraid . He turned to see where Bokuto was, he was nowhere to be seen.

As they marched into battle, he could hear the chants of his lover's name. Bokuto! He is here! Bokuto! Bokuto!

They rushed towards him; armies of men ready to fight.

He knew he had promised Bokuto he would not fight, but he felt his hand grip tighter around the handle of the sword before striking. He took a breath and watched as they began to fall.

Chaos surrounded him, blood rushed through his veins. Is this how Bokuto felt when fighting? That rush of adrenaline to keep going was so strong that he hit another.

As he runs spears flash before him, but they are too slow to hit him. He continues running, watching as the men fight around him.

A distraction. That is all he was, he was not smart like Kenma, adaptive like Atsumu, he wasn't as naturally gifted as Kageyama; he was not made for war.

Then, he felt it. It came from behind, piercing where his armour did not cover his legs. He stumbles, falling forward to the ground. A tearing pain runs through him, he watches a figure approach him, ripping the spear from his leg. The hot blood surrounded him in a pool.

He screams.

Akaashi pleads with him as his helmet is ripped from him, revealing his face to the man; revealing he is not Bokuto.

He can see the spear raised before it strikes him again. Into his side before it ripped out again. His head drops back against the ground. His mind imagined things he had never done; had never said. He thought of his mother, and he felt like soil was being poured onto his head as he took a breath.

Then he thought of Bokuto.