Tokyo//bokuaka

2.0

Keiji Akaashi
明石啓二
~

I watched as the joyous boy walked in to the Starbucks, he instantly caught my attention. He's an artist, I can tell by the way he admires the paintings around the lounge, and there's obviously paint stains on his pants. Every thing about him screams artist, the way his messy hair falls over his face, the way his jeans are rolled up unevenly, the way he looks around with curious eyes.

I examine the boy's face, he has a lighter skin tone, his hair is light (it could possibly be white) with darker streaks in it (black?), his eyes are very bright, catching my attention.

I have a very rare color blindness, it's almost unheard of. Usually people who have color blindness can't see green or red, that's the most common, but I can't see any color. Everything is grey, is really the only way I can explain it. It's like a movie that's in black in white, you can see the darkness of a color or the lightness of a color, but no color. I wasn't born this way, one day I noticed that the colors red and green couldn't be seen, and as those days passed I started seeing less and less color until my sight of color completed vanished.

I wish I could see yellow, that's my favorite color. I know what yellow looks like, it's different from any other color, it's the brightest.

The artist is soon right in front of me, a big smile on his face. "Hello welcome to Starbucks, how may I help you?" I ask the pretty boy.

"Hm. What's your favorite, I just can't seem to decide." He answers, a small blush rising to his cheeks.

I ponder for a moment. I can't remember if it was the pink drink I liked so much or the purple. I'm not a big fan of coffee, so I go for the teas and juices. I think it was the pink drink? No.... fuck.

"A caramel macchiato is my favorite." I lie, I like it, but it's not my favorite.

"I'll take that, the largest size you can go-" he gets cut off by his phone getting a notification, once looking at his screen for a moment he adverts his attention back to me. "Make that two please." He smiles, shoving his phone back in his pocket.

I grab two cups and a sharpie. "Name?" I ask, smiling back at the giddy painter.

"Oh. Kotaro." He says and I smile, writing his name on both of the cups and proceeding to make the coffee.

~~~

Once I finish making his coffee, I set them in drink carriers and walk over to wear he sits at a table, sketching in a note book.

He's amazing at drawing, he glances at a picture on his phone of a man and his wife (possibly) and then draws what he sees.

"Kotaro-San." I say, causing him to look at me with a grin.

"Oh thank you!" He looks at the name tag placed on my chest. "Uh.. Keiji." He adds.

I smile softly and bow to him, turning away and going in to the break room, seeing how my shift is over. Once I walk out with my belongings, a back pack and my jacket, I notice Kotaro still sitting at the table and drawing.

I raise an eyebrow, but continue to walk out of the Starbucks, happy to be finally going home. I step out in to the cold Tokyo air and start walking towards my apartment building.

My mind keeps drifting back to the artist, he was so beautiful. It was more like he's the art, not what he makes is. He's a complete opposite of myself, loud, outgoing, beautiful, talented. I just can't seem to keep him out of my mind.

I just met him, I need to stop.

~~~

I step in to my apartment and I instantly hear my two friends bickering at each other, as usual.

"Iwa-chan so mean!" Oikawa gasps. After that I hear some mumbling and rustles before I hear them both burst in to laughter.

I sigh, dropping my bag on the ground and hoping to make it to my room without being noticed by the two children.

But of course it doesn't fly.

"I hear a wild mom." Oikawa exclaim, the sound of bare feet against the wood floors is heard before the two burst through the hallway and towards me.

They still wear their volleyball uniforms, they play for Japan. The three of us met in high school. We all played volleyball, but I went to a different school than them.

I sigh once more and look at the two giddy volleyball players. Today they had a big tournament, I was unable to make it because I had a double shift today.

"Did you win?" I ask and they both spark in to instant chatter.

"YES! We went against Italy and I hit so many serves!" Oikawa exclaims, like a child.

Then they go on and on about how tough China was but they pulled through in the end. "Dumbass." Iwazoomi mutters when Oikawa keeps dragging on and on.

I smile at the two, sitting on the couch and looking at them. "Are you leaving tomorrow then?" I ask, referring to the championships they should be going to.

"Yes, we're going to Russia." Iwa-chan answers, dragging his partner down on the couch with him.

I sigh for what seems like the hundredth time. It may not seem like it, but I love these dorks and I'm going to miss them. They'll be gone for about a week max and I'm going to be very lonely.

"But who will help me with my colors in the morning?" I ask, a slight whine to my voice. Every morning they tell me what color of clothing I have in my hands so I will match.

"I told you to stay with a friend when we're gone." Oikawa says, resting his head against Iwazoomi's.

"I have none."

"What about Testuro?" Oikawa cheers, a smiling forming on his lips as he sits on
Iwazoomi's lap. I sigh, I haven't spoken to Kuroo in months.

"I guess it wouldn't hurt. " I say, grabbing my phone out.

I scroll through and find Testuro's contact and hit the call button. I hold the phone to my ear and listen to the ringing, watching as Oikawa and Iwazoomi run off to their room. I roll my eyes at that.

"Akashi-San!" Kuroo answers in a ecstatic voice.

"Hello Testuro." I smile, loving the sound of my dearest friend's voice.

"What's up?" He asks, rustling on the other line is heard shortly after.

"Oikawa and Iwazoomi are leaving tomorrow for Russia and I don't want to be alone. I was wondering if I could stay with you, or you could come here." I stutter, quite nervous about his answer.

"Oh Akashi, miss me that much?" Kuroo teases and I frown. "But I share my apartment with someone."

"Oh that's fine. As long as they don't care." I say, scratching the back of my head. "But who is it?"

"Kotaro Bokuto."