The price of truth (Sleepless Town season 2)

Chapter 9

Bokuto opened his eyes very slowly. He blinked several times, but all his eyes saw was the absorbing blackness of the night, speckled with white stars shining in the sky through the open window. It was probably around 5 in the morning, the silence was spectral. A pleasantly cool end-of-summer breeze blew into the room. It smelled of tranquility, of silence, of calm. He curled up on the bed and pressed himself closer to one of the bodies around him; he didn't know if this was Kuroo or Oikawa who was holding him around the waist, but it didn't matter. He wasn't cold—it was still mid-September, and although autumn was approaching there were still some very hot nights—but the closeness and warmth of another person sleeping next to him comforted him.

He usually didn't wake up during the night, even during the day he was sleepy. However, as the medication regimen tapered off and his days returned to normal, as routine took hold again, his nights became a little more restless. Usually they were normal, he only woke up if he wanted to change his position or if he was too hot, but this time it was different. He closed his eyes again, even though he knew he wouldn't be able to fall asleep. In less than two hours they had to get up to go to class and lead a normal life, even though the air in the university changed since the latest events came to light. When it was discovered that one student died, another was tortured, and two others had turned out to be their captors, dangerous criminals, tension and mistrust became palpable on campus.

The hand around his waist—Oikawa's, he could determine after noticing the softness of his fingers—tightened a little tighter around him. Bokuto settled against his chest and listened to the deep breathing of the boy next to him. It relaxed him to know that he was still by his side, and so did Kuroo. Each one fighting their own battles but never alone. The fear was still there, like one of them, as if it were the fourth inhabitant of the house. Living a normal life after everything that had happened was a daily effort, but little by little life returned more or less to its normal course.

Except for Akaashi. Bokuto thought about him every day, every moment of every hour. At first he did it with extreme pain, helpless before the world that opened up in front of him without Akaashi, unable to remember why he couldn't live without him. He only knew that it hurt a lot, but he couldn't find the feeling that had led him to feel that bitterness in his loss. He was furious that someone took Akaashi's life, disturbed that it was done by someone he considered relatively close to. For a long time, Bokuto felt bad about having a tiny altar at home in honor of Akaashi, with two small vases with white chrysanthemums and an incense stick, all around a photograph of the boy in which he appeared absent-minded, with a soft and sweet smile as the wind swayed his black hair. It was as if mourning him was wrong, as if Bokuto's mission was to cry and deny his death instead of honoring it.

But little by little, thanks to medication, therapy, and the immeasurable support that Kuroo, and especially Oikawa, offered him, remembering Akaashi was different now. It hurt as much as the first day, but now that pain wasn't rooted in the feeling of anger, nor in regret, nor in loneliness; now he just missed him so much that grief, longing and nostalgia were normal. Now he could remember Akaashi with the immense love he felt for him, and understand why it was so painful not to have him by his side. Now the image of Akaashi not only aroused sadness—that too—but also happiness for the good times, affection and calm that since his death and up until now only Oikawa and Kuroo were able to provide for him. Now he had regained a little bit of himself and a little bit of the real Akaashi, the one he had known, the one he still loved.

Bokuto wiped away a stray tear and smiled briefly into the darkness. "I miss you, 'Kaashi," he whispered, his heart heavy with sorrow but also happy to be able to remember him this way. "But above all, I love you."

***

"Thank you, Akemi. Yes, don't worry. I'm fine. Will I be able to visit him? Yes. Yes, great. Thanks for everything."