The volleyball court felt different now, less a battleground and more a sanctuary. Akaashi hadn't touched a volleyball in weeks, the simple act feeling both impossible and necessary. He found himself drawn back to the place where their love story had blossomed, a place filled with both joy and sorrow. The familiar scent of polished wood and sweat still lingered in the air, a phantom echo of Bokuto's boisterous presence.
He picked up a volleyball, the leather cool and smooth beneath his fingertips. He tossed it gently into the air, the familiar weight grounding him in the present. He served, the ball arcing across the net with surprising accuracy, a testament to the muscle memory that still remained. He moved, his body remembering the fluid grace of his setting, the precision of his movements. He wasn't playing; he was remembering. He was reliving the countless hours spent with Bokuto, the shared victories, the fierce competition, the quiet moments of understanding.
As he played, he allowed himself to remember the good times, the laughter, the shared dreams, the unwavering support. He allowed himself to grieve, to let the tears fall, to feel the weight of his loss. But he also allowed himself to feel the joy, the happiness, the love that had defined their relationship. He remembered Bokuto's infectious enthusiasm, his unwavering optimism, his fierce determination. He remembered the way Bokuto's eyes would light up when he talked about volleyball, the way his smile could brighten even the darkest of days.
He played for hours, the sun setting, casting long shadows across the court. He played not as a grieving lover, but as a player, a setter, a friend. He played for Bokuto, offering a silent tribute to the man who had inspired him, challenged him, and loved him unconditionally. As he finally stopped, exhausted but strangely at peace, he knew that the court would always be a sacred place, a place where he could connect with Bokuto's spirit, a place where their love story would forever live on. The setting sun cast a warm glow on the court, a symbol of hope, a promise of a future where the memory of Bokuto's love would continue to inspire him, to guide him, to keep him strong. He would carry Bokuto's memory in his heart, a beacon in the darkness, a reminder of a love that would never truly fade.
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Love beyond Season
FanfictionThe snow fell that day, a relentless, suffocating blanket of white that mirrored the chilling emptiness settling in Akaashi's soul. He stood by the window, the frosted glass a cold, unforgiving barrier between him and the world outside. Each snow...
