soulful eyes » Akaashi Keiji [ bokuaka ]

all roads lead to you » a. keiji side

  Slipping on the icy alleyway was the last straw to Akaashi's patience. Winter was not his favorite season, at all. He liked being somewhere warm, snuggled in a blanket or two, with mint tea in his hands, for example. Yet with his always working mother and empty fridge a trip to the nearest market was unavoidable.
  Recently his temper, at least when it came to himself, has gotten shorter. But even with that, the fall in question was just the last drop in an overflowing glass.
  He messed up. He messed up again. They had practice today, much to his surprise no one whined even. Practices were unusually quiet this year, weirdly organized and as much as he used to rant about his moody friend, now that was bothering him instead. Be careful what you wish for, they said. And it has been months now, so how was he not getting used to it? Having Bokuto as a teammate was troublesome, but not having him at all, was worse.

  Every hint was loudly echoing over and over as if mocking him and the lack of a certain someone's presence. Because there were more than enough people, it was unreasonable to call the gym "empty". And it wasn't too noisy, yet not quiet either. There were enough things to keep his mind occupied too. And in perfect paradox what kept happening was that: He who called Bokuto "distraction" from important things, now needed one from thinking about the ace. None was given.
  Akaashi Keiji - looked up to by his kouhais, more or less admired, and who was suddenly even more popular than before - closed himself. He was always quiet, just how he was always ten minutes early for any arrangement or how he could be polite but was actually warm towards a few. And of course, pretty.
  The pretty did not go away when he upped a class. Maybe it changed in the sense of that he started wearing a leather jacket, somehow. It probably didn't sit with his reputation and typical style, yet he insisted on liking it.
  Of course, Akaashi would not admit that Bokuto left that jacket behind and he never told him. The boy just slept hugging it until it has almost lost it's Bokuto scent. Then he just started wearing it.
  His hair which was usually a curly, fluffy mess changed. Of course he still brushed it whenever and didn't really care but he also missed his appointment with the stylist and never called to make a second. It just started growing. He didn't care.
  Maybe his "pretty" changed in the sense that there were slight, almost unnoticable on his olive skin, circles under his eyes. Of course they weren't new, the darkness appeared for all his all nighters and times he spent talking to Bokuto. The purple moons only deepened this year, more or less. He never answered what could be taking away his sleep when asked.
  He was still a good student. High mark student above the average. But his straight, steel-forged A's had faltered and trembled. He still looked like he didn't care, as if learning was as efortless as breathing. Was he studying at night? Was he studying at all?
  Maybe he changed in the way he frowned. The boy was still polite, of course. And he has taken on the duty of class president - "Forced in.", by quote. He did his duties, took responsibility for his classmates, managed volleyball... He tried to be at help everywhere, never looking overwhelmed. He volunteered to do everything and if asked for help, he would always agree. Yet he frowned all the time. And somehow that was it, he was liked anyway.
  Maybe his "pretty" changed in the sense not only of appearance but for all the roads somehow leading to him - who just wanted to be alone. He looked like a "bad boy", as some girls would say, but was as gentle or fair to others as he could. He was distanced - which some girls, especially first years would just call "mysterious". He was the class president and second in the school among his peers, yet he was also an athlete.
  All the roads led to him, all the attention. And how could he shoulder this as well, when even if the cracks of the silence in that gym were screaming at him exactly what was missing, who he should not be thinking about, what is different...
  Even when he knew, in his head, exactly what was going on, some other part of him - ah, sweet paradox - kept looking for that presence.
  And of course, found only absence. On some nights he would shake dryly, no tears, no whails or sobbing. Akaashi just could not cry the whole year round about his best friend going to university. Such trivial, pathetic thing. Keiji just couldn't -and shouldn't, he would add scoulding himself - keep looking for him.

First years didn't notice at the start. Then they were a bit confused, of course. But the others.. they knew what was up. Akaashi was glad that after graduation only a few people of the old team remained for he was embarassed. By how devasted he looked at every mistake of the tongue, or how he sighed while watching over the team, his team, who had to prove that they were still good. Bokuta was a captain who woukd fall behind to push his tean forward and widely recognized player. Fokurodani had to prove themselves or even their attendance at the Nationals would be overshadowed by the #4 Ace. Regardless of being the new captain Akaashi didn't feel that pressure as heavily. He had nothing against Bokuto's shadow, that's where he stood. But people who knew them as friends could notice how he would stop dead in his tracks when something reminded him of the ex-teammate. How he would look both ways at the hallway, as if crossing a busy street, almost like he was expecting him to run that way causing chaos. Bokuto always did this when he had good news to share and was in extastic mood, running in the hallway, almost trampling others and then grabbing Akaashi in his arms. How could you not fall for someone so excited to see you?

  As weird as their dynamic was - silent and observent, quite reserved and collected kouhai and loud, obnoxious and moody, careless even senpai, they, somehow fit in as puzzle pieces. In weird ways they took care of each other, like no one else could.
  For the year before Akaashi joined their school and volleyball team Bokuto was untameable. He was reckless, pushy, loud... Yet it was a luck he was a bit more entusiastic and hardworking than he was moody. He was raw talent fueled by fierce dreams, maybe. Or he and volleyball had some conection. No one actually thought why would he be so passionate about that, but people could remember how he went trough some rich humiliation so a senpai would help him out. Regardless, his grades were still barely good enough to allow him to keep playing. And when everyone expected to watch his pride and resolve crumble they were to be dissapointed. Bokuto cared even less than them.
  None knew and none asked when the two had befriended each other. The olw-like then-second year was extroverted, cheerful and friendly. If not popular, he was widely heard of and people made possitive associations with his name.
  So did Akaashi and Bokuto knew each other before hand? No way of telling. He kept bugging his kouhai, and the ravenette kept being quiet, sharp, mildly respectful of his senpai's status. Regardless at lunch, when they did have it alone or if they tagged behind in an empty classroom to catch up on homework, you could faintly hear Akaashi actually insulting him. As if he was comfortable enough.
  Not that Akaashi would look that back. It would only make him wonder "what if" and imagine all kind of possible scenarious which would only irritate him further. Because Akaashi couldn't bring himself to attend Bokuto's graduation. Because he never told, anyone at all, about his crazy crush. Because Bokuto's eyes followed him everywhere, especially on clear nights with starry skies.
  Because they rarely talked, Akaashi just couldn't bring himself to start a conversation, again. He had no topic or excuse to do so, all of them were used up already and all he got was silence. They didn't talk for days. Then the days became weeks, the weeks - months.
  And Bokuto didn't either. There were a few messages he left on seen and that was it. Nothing. On some days Akaashi would wonder if that was his way of ending their friendship. On others - why, of all people, he did fell for him? His thoughts were always vaguely related in some way to Bokuto. He will jump from thought to thought, following their threads just to find himself there again.

  Even now, as they used to live in one neighborhood, everything led right back. Everything stayed, the boy left and ever so slightly everything changed.
  The crossroads where they would meet up were still there, but the tree - wasn't. A few shops that were on their way to school changed or moved. The cafe where he would drag him moved as well. The hallways where Akaashi stood up for him once, and started all, were now heartbreakingly silent. The tosses that would go to him, now went to others, despite the fact that he would still mess up and call him name.
  What a joke, to call the name of a graduate when the first years looked up to him. To still pathetically obssess over someone who wouldn't even text him.
  And it has been awhile, the ravenette thought, since he would want to cry so hard on his way home.
  To have Bokuto Koutarou as a teammate was bothersome, but it was even worse to have him not.