bokuaka one shots

funeral

The sound of a speaker connecting to a device.. Notes ascending distantly. Bum, bum, bum, bum.

Someone's baby crying a few rows over. The man at the front keeps talking through the child's blabbering, but it appears everyone has tuned him out.

Crying. Muffled sobs and sniffs are heard from around the room.

"He was a good man," someone mumbles. They didn't know him. Not well, at least. They may have met him a few years ago. Learned his name, maybe asked him about work, forgot about him soon.

People that never visited him before are here. Never came to see him, but were suddenly sad when he was gone. He wondered if they regretted not knowing him when they had the chance.

Someone grips his hand. "Let me know if you need anything." He nods, but he won't. He has no way of telling them, anyway.

People laugh when the man talking at the front says something funny about one of his habits, such as his low tolerance for obnoxious people, with the exception of his loud "partner", because forbid they say "boyfriend", or how little he liked to talk.

His grandmother introduced Bokuto as his "best friend". His parents would introduce him as his "partner". Bokuto just wanted to be his boyfriend.

It was over after what seemed like forever. They could finally leave, but not before being bombarded with questions and the sympathy of strangers.

The man in the casket was not Akaashi. He seemed more like a doll that resembled him. Bokuto knew Akaashi wouldn't care for the way they styled his hair, but he didn't say anything.

A slideshow. They used songs that they thought were his favorite. He may have sang along to them before, but they were far from his favorites.

There were pictures of Bokuto and Akaashi together. Moments when they were alone, having fun, and would decide to document it with a photo. Bokuto longed for Akaashi to look at him like that once more. Pictures of them playing volleyball, in their matching uniforms. Bokuto would give anything for Akaashi to set to him one more time.

Akaashi's parents invited everyone to eat at their home after the funeral. Bokuto didn't go. He preferred to sulk at home, in the pile of Akaashi's things strewn in their previously shared bedroom. Their house would just remind him of Akaashi anyway. Smell too much like him, like that first night they stayed together.

Kuroo and Kenma went home with him. Other people were staying at his house, as well, but they wouldn't be home until much later.

Kuroo insisted on staying with Bokuto, to keep his mind busy and make sure he was taking care of himself. He didn't force him to do anything, but Bokuto couldn't resist to wake up when he heard the bustling of his guests in the kitchen preparing for breakfast.

Sometimes, he would begin to wake up, before his mind could recall anything, to the smell of food cooking and think that Akaashi had woke up before him and started cooking for him. Then he would cry to himself for a bit and take a shower before joining everyone else.

His mother sleeps next to him. He expected it to feel weird, but it was comforting to have someone next to him, even if he felt like a kid again. Sometimes its nice to feel like a kid.

"How do you feel?" she would ask late at night, when they would lay down to go to sleep.

"My heart is heavy," he would reply, holding back tears.

Bokuto lost his soul mate.

♡

Word Count: 604