The sin of loving you(Bokuaka ff)

Chapter 2: Echoes of guilt

The days following their late-night confrontation were a blur of tension and avoidance. Akaashi tried to focus on anything but the memory of Bokuto's pained expression, yet it haunted him, creeping into his thoughts during practice, at school, and in the quiet moments before sleep claimed him. He replayed their conversation over and over, each repetition tightening the knot of guilt in his chest.

Bokuto, usually a whirlwind of energy and enthusiasm, had become subdued. He still laughed and joked with the team, but there was a hollowness to his smile, a forced cheerfulness that Akaashi couldn't ignore. Every time their eyes met, Akaashi could see the unspoken question in Bokuto's gaze, the hurt he tried so hard to hide. It tore Akaashi apart, but he didn't know how to fix it.

At practice, they still worked together seamlessly on the court, their chemistry as setter and ace remaining intact, but there was an unmistakable tension beneath the surface. The easy, natural connection they had once shared now felt strained, like a thread pulled too tight, ready to snap at any moment.

Akaashi couldn't stand it. He hated what he was doing to Bokuto, hated how his own fears were driving a wedge between them. But every time he thought about trying to talk to Bokuto, to apologize, to explain, the words caught in his throat. The shame was too overwhelming. How could he tell Bokuto that he was scared of loving him? That every time they were together, a part of him felt like he was doing something wrong?

The breaking point came during a routine drill. Akaashi was setting for Bokuto as usual, but his mind was elsewhere, lost in the whirlwind of conflicting emotions that had been plaguing him for days. When Bokuto leapt for the spike, Akaashi's set was just a little too high. Bokuto, distracted by the off-set, hesitated for a split second before attempting to adjust, but it was too late. He missed the ball completely, landing awkwardly on his feet.

A heavy silence fell over the gym as everyone processed the mistake. Bokuto never missed spikes like that. He was the ace, the heart of the team. And Akaashi never messed up his sets—especially not for Bokuto.

The rest of the team exchanged uneasy glances, sensing that something was wrong but unsure of what it was. Bokuto straightened, his eyes flicking to Akaashi, who stood frozen, the guilt written all over his face.

"It's fine," Bokuto said, forcing a smile as he waved off the concern of his teammates. But his eyes didn't leave Akaashi, and the forced cheerfulness in his voice only made Akaashi feel worse.

The coach, who had been observing from the sidelines, clapped his hands to break the tension. "Alright, reset and run it again. Everyone makes mistakes, just keep your focus."

Akaashi nodded, trying to shake off the lingering anxiety, but as he prepared to set for Bokuto again, his hands trembled slightly. He felt like he was on the edge of a precipice, and one more wrong move would send him tumbling over. The rest of practice passed in a blur, Akaashi moving through the drills mechanically, his mind elsewhere.

After practice ended, Bokuto was the first to leave the gym, his usual post-practice excitement nowhere to be seen. Akaashi wanted to follow him, to say something—anything—to make things right, but he hesitated too long. By the time he made up his mind, Bokuto was already gone.

The locker room was unusually quiet, the other team members exchanging awkward glances as they changed out of their practice clothes. They had all noticed the tension between Bokuto and Akaashi, but no one dared to ask about it.

Konoha was the first to break the silence. "You okay, Akaashi?" he asked carefully, his voice low enough that only Akaashi could hear.

Akaashi forced a nod, though he knew he wasn't fooling anyone. "I'm fine," he replied, his voice flat.

Konoha didn't push further, but the concern in his eyes lingered. The rest of the team filed out of the locker room one by one, leaving Akaashi alone with his thoughts.

When Akaashi finally stepped out of the gym, the sky had darkened, the sun already setting behind the horizon. He walked home slowly, each step heavy with the weight of his thoughts. He knew he couldn't keep going like this. The distance between him and Bokuto was growing wider by the day, and if he didn't do something soon, it would be too late to bridge the gap.

But what could he do? The idea of confronting his feelings head-on, of admitting to Bokuto that he was scared and ashamed, terrified him. He had always been so careful, so controlled, and now, he was unraveling, his emotions spiraling out of control in ways he couldn't manage.

When he finally reached his house, Akaashi hesitated at the front door, the darkness of the night pressing in around him. He didn't want to go inside, to face the quiet solitude of his room where his thoughts would only grow louder. But there was nowhere else to go, no one he could talk to about what he was feeling.

With a resigned sigh, he pushed open the door and stepped inside. The house was silent, his parents likely already asleep. He made his way to his room and closed the door behind him, the quiet settling around him like a heavy blanket. He sat on the edge of his bed, his thoughts racing, replaying the day's events over and over until he felt like he was suffocating under the weight of it all.

He reached for his phone, his finger hovering over Bokuto's name in his contacts. His heart ached with the urge to call, to hear Bokuto's voice, to try and explain everything. But he couldn't bring himself to do it. What could he say that wouldn't just make things worse?

Instead, he put his phone back down and lay back on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. The silence of his room felt oppressive, his thoughts too loud in the stillness.

Tomorrow, he would have to face Bokuto again, the tension between them a growing chasm that he didn't know how to cross. But for tonight, all he could do was lie there, alone with the painful truth that his own fear was driving away the one person he cared about the most.