His uniform felt heavy on his back. It was damp with his own sweat, but maybe it was the tears that made it weight so much.

His last game.

Nekoma's side of the bleachers exploded with yells and applause. The weird giant kid jumped up and down like an excited cat, his arms lifting their libero off the the ground. Even Kenma had a significant smile on his usually expressionless face. Kuroo was grinning like a cat that got the mouse (more like an owl than a mouse though).

Both his knees trembled but Bokuto was damned if he let anyone notice. People always said that the ace was the baby owl on the team. Always with his mood swings and insane spikes and cheers. Fukurodani's eyes were most of the time at him, watching his every move and trying to adapt to it. This time wasn't different.

"Bokuto?"

It was Konoha. His voice cracked a bit, his eyes glassy with unshed tears. They bowed to thank the other team, as well as their side of the bleachers.

It was so damn hard keeping a straight face.

Suddenly his hand was being smashed in a tight grip and Bokuto didn't need to look to know who was it. The crowd stood up in a standing ovation, even the ones that cheered for Nekoma. His name stuck out from the noise, a chant that couldn't be ignored.

It had been his last game after all.

Why did it have to be so goddamn hard to keep a straight face?

Akaashi tightened his grip and a soft sob was heard.

Well, fuck.

His golden eyes focused on the vice-capitain, looking for any signs of distress. His heart swelled up instantly at the sight of glassy eyes and a trembling lower lip.

He had to stay strong. For once in his life, he had to be the strong one in this team.

Fukurodani's members gathered around Bokuto, as if they were waiting for him to say something. Or to just break down and cry.

"You..", the capitain paused as his voice cracked. Bokuto took a deep breath and tried again. "You guys were amazing today. I couldn't be more proud. We lost but we never gave up even for one second. Nekoma was simply stronger today. I'm so damn proud of you.", he tried to smile softly, the way Akaashi always did when complimenting the team. It wasn't the right time for his excited speeches. Bokuto simply didn't have the strenght for them anymore.

"Thank you. These three years have been... They have been a real hoot.", he paused as some of them snorted. Of course Bokuto would make an owl joke. But it was Akaashi's broken smile that almost tore his heart in two.

"I couldn't have asked for a better team, honestly. Thank you for letting me be your capitain and for doing your best every single day. We wouldn't be here if it wasn't for each and every one of you. Now, let's go get changed, right?", the boy concluded.

"Aye, Ace!", his teammates echoed and Bokuto's soft smile widened. It was probably the last time these words would be said to him.

It hurt like a bitch.

Kenma's last minute feint replayed on his head like a broken record. The sensation that if he hadn't been distracted with Lev and Kuroo possible spikes, he could have seen it coming and Fukurodani might have still stood a chance.

It was numbing, really. The guilt could almost swallow him whole as his footsteps stopped in front of the lockers. Most of his teammates stood in silence, a few too dumbfounded to do anything other than get changed. Most of the third years had tears in their eyes when they clapped their hands on Bokuto's back as they left the room.

Bokuto's movements were so clumsy it took him ages just to change into clean pants. His own eyes were starting to fill up with unshed tears and the boy quickly blinked them away, hoping he would be left alone soon enough.

Thankfully, most of Fukurodani seemed eager to leave as the atmosphere of the room was gloomy enough to make anyone near have their hearts swell.

Bokuto thanked God for finally being alone and a shaky breath left his lips. With his forehead pressed against the lockers, his eyes closed and his hands balled into fists. The ace was ready to break down.

"Bokuto-san?"

Golden eyes quickly opened to the sound of a voice so broken it was almost irrecognizable. Almost. Bokuto would recognize it anywhere, any time.

Akaashi was a mess. He was still in his uniform, the number 4 on it a perfect match for the five on his own. The stoic expression on his face was long gone, his eyes looked that of a lost kid, one that just lost one of the most important things in his life. His hands, those clever fingers that tossed the ball with brilliance, were shaking, idly reaching fowards. It was the most heartbreaking thing Bokuto had ever witnessed. The pain was so evident, it hurt.

Before his mind could even process what was happening, those clever fingers were wrapped around his and Akaashi had his face hidden on his capitain's shirt, sobs muffled by it. No one would be able to tell who reached for who first and it didn't matter in the slightest. There was pain in Akaashi's face and Bokuto's first impulse would always be to soothe it.

His arms wrapped around the smaller boy, bringing him closer as if their proximity would make it better (maybe it actually did). The ace had never seen him break down before. Akaashi was the strenght of their team, what some would call "team mom". He was the one who stood strong when they lost their matches and Bokuto promptly entered a serious dejected mode. It never was the other way around.

"It's not your fault, you know?", Bokuto whispered as he soothingly ran a hand through the setters hair. "You were brilliant out there. As you always are."

Akaashi's sobs worsened and maybe Bokuto had said the wrong thing as he most of the time did. His eyebrow quirked in confusion, only to be stared at by the smaller boy. It wasn't his normal stare though. It was soft, so full of affection that Bokuto's heart skipped a beat. His throat closed up and suddenly the always chattery capitain didn't have any words to say.

"It wasn't your fault either. No one could know that their setter was going to do a feint. You can't blame yourself for that.", Akaashi's voice echoed through the empty room. It was truly amazing how he always knew what the ace was thinking, even without one word exchanged. Bokuto's eyes widened, only to soften a couple of seconds later. Now there was the Akaashi he knew better.

It was Bokuto's turn to hide on the crook of the setter neck, dampening his teammates shirt with his tears. His body rocked with the force of his and Akaashi's sobs. He would break down eventually. He was just glad he didn't need to be alone.

And if Kuroo found them an hour later on the main entrance of the stadium with red puffy eyes and intertwined fingers, it was something only them should know.