Inked Skin - Bokuaka

Chapter 4 - Have Mercy

It was absolutely okay.

Just adequately fine in Akaashis books.

It wasn't as if he had a nervous tick, a trickle of anxiety that traced down every bump in his spine until he was sitting tense at his desk, wondering why his soul mate hadn't written back.

Apart from...he did, and his eyes darted to his wrist and back to the board in record time.

A past assumption was that whoever they may be, were easily demanding and they had once wrote to him countless times in one day.

It was annoying having to cross out all the words that he tried to resist reading, as well as it was truly endearing.

So when they had one day stopped writing to him, he knew that it was possibly the end of something, and that he had been the one to end it, no words exchanged.

This right now was him trying to reach out, trying to ask for a second chance. Even though deep down he irrefutably knew that he might not get one. Still he clung to the chance, gambling on what he already knew about his soul mate.

It was that they had wanted to talk to Akaashi as badly as Akaashi had wanted to talk to them, even though he knew better to.

So yes he may be sweating every step it took to walk from school to home. But if he did happen to be perspiring so violently, it was only because he was entirely fine, absolutely splendid. Of course he was.

Because it wasn't as if he had the risk of his mother finding out. If anything, he would maybe just get his arm chopped off.

He could live without one less limb right? He saw capable people like that all the time.

One armed volleyball, one armed painting, one armed- okay he needed to wash this off before he got back to his house.

If only they'd reply. Now he had the risk of them replying later on when he was in clear sight of both his parents eyes.

Noticing that there were no cars in his driveway, Akaashi exhaled heavily in relief, taking two steps at a time to go unlock the door. He most likely had an hour or two before any of his parents got home, meaning he wouldn't have to wash it off just yet.

Perhaps he should try write something else? maybe they were looking for a little more effort on his side, and it wasn't as if he were reluctant to give it.

It would just be too much to wash off quickly if need be. In other words, he was happy writing more, given that they actually did reply...

Sliding off his shoes at the front door, he pulled a pen from his jacket pocket and placed it under the words he had previously painted on.

Well, it was free real estate. What would he write? Hey, give me attention? Maybe a-

His eyes darted up as a cough sounded from someones throat.

The front door lead straight into the living room and on the couch he hadn't noticed his dad, sitting with head twisted to look at Akaashi with raised eyebrows.

Akaashis mouth swiftly fell open, grasping for words. He lowered the pen slowly and with caution, placing it back in his pocket.