Falling
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A poem of a falling ninja. A dying ninja. One making a sacrifice for his friends.
Otherwise known as an oldie but a goodie. A poem that I wrote a while back for Fanfiction and am now posting here as I look to put up more content.
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"i don't think i could...ever st-stop waiting for you to come home." akaashi's eyebrows furrow and he shakes his head at nothing in particular, his body wracked by another silent cry and the thunder engulfs them once more, before hiding his face behind the hand that was not holding the box. bokuto lets a breath escape him. he brings up a hand to the top of his knee and traces circles above the fabric of his jeans, choosing his words carefully and watching the box shudder in akaashi's hand. "some things cannot be fixed, keiji. only carried. it's up to you to figure out how to lighten the load." ... or, bokuto is dead, and akaashi is lost.
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