"Your tattoo is only half complete and it completes itself the moment you find your soulmate, like if you had half a heart, you'd get a full heart on your skin."
"You remove your tattoo because you hate the idea of someone dictating who you can be with for the rest of your life and the person who's removing it happens to be your soulmate and they're torn between letting you know and just not bringing it up because you kind of went there because you didn't want a soulmate and vice versa."
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If the whole thing wasn't stupid enough already, Akaashi quite possibly had the stupidest tattoo ever. A circle. Everyone else had a tree or a moon,or even half a heart, for Christ's sake.
Akaashi had a circle. A single, thin circle on the inside of his arm. It was better than something complex and big, though, he guessed. The tattoos were stupid, the concept was stupid, the universe was stupid. The whole idea of a soulmate was stupid.
Some people found it dreamy, knowing that there was somebody out there who was literally made for you. They made it romantic, not being allowed to truly ever fall in love. When you met your soulmate you'd know it with a single glance at your tattoo. Then people told themselves that it was love that they were feeling, because it was their soulmate. It was all fake, it was all stupid, and above-all-else it was nothing that Akaashi ever wanted to be involved in. It definitely wasn't something that he was going to let remain on his arm.
He'd gone in to get it removed.
The tattoo parlor was loud. A group of boys lounged by the door, looking at the list of tattoos hanging on the wall. A building filled with people there to add another tattoo on to their collection. Akaashi was willing to bet good money that he was the only one there to get a tattoo removed.
"Are you ready to go?"
Akaashi's head snapped up to meet the eyes of a messy-haired man leaning over the counter. He nodded, standing up and letting his eyes scan over a girl who was showing off her new tattoo to her friends, who all cooed and admired it like little pawns.
"Did you decide which one you want, then?" The man tipped his head to the side, letting his hair fall out of his eyes. "It seems like everyone on Earth's wanted an infinity sign today…don't get me wrong, it's a nice tattoo, but it's getting a little overused."
"How do you know I'm not here for one of those? You could have just offended me," Akaashi muttered, studying another one of the posters showing off the tattoos available. There was a variety of circles towards the middle. Why anyone would want a circle tattoo, he wasn't sure.
"Yeah, you don't really scream 'infinity sign tattoo'." Akaashi was pretty sure his nametag read 'Kuroo', but it was so worn and old-looking that Akaashi could have been completely wrong. "So what are you looking at for today?"
"I'm getting mine removed."
Kuroo paused, raising an eyebrow as he gestured to a chair. Akaashi sat, pointedly glaring at the man. He didn't comment, but it wasn't hard to tell that he was surprised—or, at the very least judging. Akaashi fought the urge to glare at him again.
"Okay," Kuroo agreed, voice not betraying any of the surprise that lingered in his eyes. "Just point me to it."
Akaashi rolled up his sleeve, trusting that Kuroo would be able to spot the tattoo without his guidance. When the other didn't make any move other than staring at the circle, he frowned. "Can I not get it removed?"
Kuroo came back to life, eyes flitting up to meet Akaashi's. "No, you can. Can't imagine why you'd want to, though. You want you soulmate tattoo removed?"
"Obviously," Akaashi wondered if it was still policy that you weren't supposed to chat up customers at work. "I wouldn't have come in here to have it removed if I wanted to keep it…It's just stupid, that's all. I don't want a soulmate, and the tattoos are stupid. So if I could get it removed, that would be really great."
He was being rude. Of course the other man was confused, it was hardly common for someone to want their soulmate tattoo removed. And Akaashi could have been more polite about the whole thing, of course.
Making an attempt to be more polite, Akaashi stopped scowling. Instead, he settled his eyes on the window, watching a group of birds fight over an abandoned sandwich. Kuroo didn't comment again, getting to work putting tools together.
"Are you sure? I mean—it's my job to ask, but, are you sure? I don't know much about removing soulmate tattoos, but I'm pretty sure you can't get it back."
"Yeah. I'm sure."
Cold fingers touched Akaashi's arm and he focused on the birds, on a student chasing after a piece of paper as it blew away, on the couple with matching birds on their hands as they laughed outside. He could practically feel the hesitance in Kuroo's hands as he went to work. It hurt, when he did it. There wasn't any small-talk when it happened, either. In movies and books, when character went in for a tattoo they always chatted with the artists.
Kuroo was silent as he worked, and Akaashi was glad. It made it easier to focus on other things.
And when the tattoo was gone and all that was left was a red patch of skin on his arm, there was reluctance left lingering in Kuroo's eyes. Akaashi almost felt bad—which was strange, because he didn't even know the man and it was his tattoo and his choice.
Still, he felt slightly guilty at having been the cause of that look. Akaashi rubbed the sore spot on his arm, trailing after Kuroo to the front desk once more to go and pay.
"Why don't you want a soulmate?"
Akaashi stopped rummaging through his wallet for a nickel. "What?"
"Isn't it…supposed to be a good thing?" Kuroo leaned against the counter again, less playfully than the first time. "Having someone that special for you?"
Akaashi shrugged, placing the nickel on top of the stack of dollars in a gesture of 'I don't care, take my money so I can go'. When Kuroo kept staring at him instead, Akaashi shrugged once more. "Because I don't want a circle to decide who I love for me. I don't want to have to fall in love. And I don't want to be forced into thinking I'm going to love someone for the rest of my life because… because we're destined or something. Have you never thought about that?"
"No." Kuroo shrugged, his eyes playful again. "I'm perfectly content with the whole thing, actually." He finally reached forward and took the money, counting through it and putting it in the cash register. Akaashi wasn't so sure that he shouldn't regret his choice. He didn't—but maybe he should have.
"Can I help you?" Akaashi stared at the boy staring at him from across the table. The boy jumped, as if he'd forgotten he was even staring in the first place. His hair is ridiculous…
"Oh! Yeah! Maybe you can, actually! Do you know the way to the 3A lecture hall?" His sentence was too flagrant, loud and excited.
He must have been an excitable person, though, because only someone that hyperactive would be able to be lost trying to find the 3A lecture hall when it was literally around the corner.
"It's around the corner to the left. It's the second door on the right." Akaashi looked back down at his phone. He could feel the other boy's gaze burning into him. If those directions were too complicated, I don't know what he's doing looking for 3A… "Just follow me."
It was where his next class was, anyway. With any luck, the other boy would ditch him as soon as Akaashi showed him to the lecture hall he was looking for. Akaashi could find a seat towards the front where nobody would talk and he'd finish the book he needed to have done before English Literature tomorrow.
The boy didn't leave. Instead, he took a seat right next to Akaashi, who had half a mind to just stand up and sit somewhere else. Nothing was stopping him. He'd done it before, and he wasn't worried about hurting anyone's feelings.
Or, he never had been before. People weren't Akaashi's thing. They were all annoying and blind, practically incapable of thinking for themselves. Akaashi couldn't care less if he hurt someone's feelings by moving to sit somewhere else. He'd never seen the other in his life, and all he knew about him was that he was too hyper, couldn't find his way out of a box and had silly hair. Still, Akaashi was reluctant to be rude to him. The same way that he'd felt guilty about being the reason those eyes had looked sad, he knew he'd feel guilty if he moved away and made these new eyes sad, too.
So he stayed. The silver-haired boy chattered to Akaashi (translation: to himself, in a way that made it seem as if he were conversing with Akaashi). His name was Bokuto, he had just started taking this class because he'd been moved up a level, art wasn't his major but he'd like to have it as a back-up if photography didn't work out, he liked photography and he usually had classes in the morning so this was a nice change.
All things that Akaashi couldn't care less about, and all things that really should have been irritating to have to listen to. They weren't, though. There was something about the innocence in the way that he said it all and the pure friendliness that made him talk to anyone who was willing to listen.
Moving away wasn't even an option at this point. Bokuto should have been infuriating. But instead he was interesting, never allowing his conversation to grow dull or irritating in any way. Akaashi wasn't a people-person, but Bokuto wasn't a boring, normal person, and Akaashi wanted to listen to him instead of the professor who walked in ten minutes late.
He half expected him to be the type to babble right through the lesson. But Bokuto fell silent when the PowerPoint revved up, eyes glued alertly to the front of the room. He payed attention to the lesson, taking careful notes and answering questions. His handwriting was neat, too, which was just another surprise.
Akaashi shoved the other out of his mind, gluing his own eyes to the front of the room to listen to the lesson. There was a test next week, and Akaashi was not going to fail because some idiot with an interesting voice and stupid hair and innocent eyes decided not to leave him alone.
He was going to have to ask Lev for the notes.
Akaashi continued sitting by Bokuto during the lessons, and it was kind of strange having someone to regularly talk to. Bokuto, who made friends with ease and had already befriended the whole class, was loud and flamboyant and packed too much enthusiasm into his voice when he spoke. It was almost funny that, in a room full of people willing to sit by him, he chose to sit next to Akaashi, who never talked to anyone else and only ever answered back in brief, tired replies that couldn't have been very interesting.
But they must have been enough to work with, because Bokuto kept sitting right next to him and sharing little fun-facts that he'd learned or telling stories about things that had happened during his day, which was always eventful.
He'd never done anything with anyone outside of school, at least not since he'd started college two years ago. And even if he'd sat by Bokuto during lectures, he still hesitated to say yes to a partner project.
Drawing a living thing. A person, an animal, a plant—it didn't matter, as long as it was alive. Akaashi probably would have drawn a plant, something still and unthinking, nonjudgmental, uninfluenced.
Instead, he agreed to go to Bokuto's to draw Bokuto himself, which meant that Bokuto would draw Akaashi in exchange. It took him exactly twenty minutes to regret that choice, and by then he was standing on Bokuto's doormat while the latter unlocked the door.
Akaashi wondered if it would be impolite to turn around and leave right now. Probably. The silly thing was that Bokuto probably wouldn't even mind—or, at least, he wouldn't be too offended by it. He'd probably go right back to smiling and chatting about his day the next time they sat down together in the 3A lecture hall.
Akaashi didn't turn tail and run. He followed Bokuto inside.
The inside of the apartment was clean, and Akaashi wasn't sure why he was surprised. Probably because Bokuto was so energetic, Akaashi had half-expected to find things scattered everywhere. (He couldn't judge, of course, because his apartment would have been just the same).
The whole apartment smelled kind of sweet, like brown sugar. They'd probably been baking recently, though, because Akaashi couldn't think of a single time where he'd ever heard anything being described as smelling like brown sugar, and Bokuto himself smelled like Old Spice.
"Tsukki might be back soon, but he won't bug us. We'll bug him more than he'll bug us, actually."
"Tsukki?"
"Yeah, my roommate!" Bokuto began to rummage through a carefully organized desk drawer, pulling out supplies and setting them next to an easel.
"Oh," Akaashi picked up a tube of paint, reading the label. "Are you good friends?" He wasn't sure why he was interested, or why he even cared. Why was he even mildly interested in knowing if Bokuto was friends with his roommate? Of course he was. Bokuto was friends with everyone. Akaashi twisted open the cap of the paint, squeezing a small bit onto his hand.
"We're soulmates, actually." Bokuto grinned as he shut the desk drawer again. "Our tattoo's a little weird, but I like it." Bokuto rolled up his sleeve to show Akaashi two birds on the inside of his arm. Birds weren't a weird tattoo, but they were spaced apart so that it seemed more like a personal tattoo than a soulmate marking.
Akaashi smeared the paint on his hand. It wasn't pretty anymore, not smeared into his skin so that it turned an uglier shade. "Ah."
Some part of Akaashi was interested in the fact that Bokuto knew his soulmate, and even more so in the fact that he'd never brought it up randomly, with everything he talked about. People who smeared it around got on Akaashi's nerves. Nothing was as pretty when it was smeared.
"What about you—have you found your soulmate yet? Just wondering, anyway, you don't have to answer." Ah, how rare it was that someone was polite enough to respect that. With anyone else, Akaashi probably would have jumped on the opportunity and changed the subject. He found himself not wanting to let Bokuto down, instead.
"No." He replied, voice flat. "I'm not interested in that kind of thing."
"Oh? But what if your soulmate is?" It may have sounded like an accusation coming from someone else, but Akaashi couldn't hear it as one the way that it had been said. It sounded more like an honest question, rather.
"I wouldn't know. I got rid of my tattoo." The paint was so smudged into his hand that it became unappealing to even touch. The color, once vibrant and pretty, was dull and ugly. The texture, once smooth and oily, was sticky and dry.
Bokuto didn't reply for a minute, and Akaashi glanced up expecting to see him giving him the same look that Kuroo had given him all those months ago. Instead, Bokuto was sharpening a pencil.
"That's it?" Akaashi asked. "No barrage of questions? No accusations?"
"Not unless you want me to," Bokuto shrugged, eyes scanning Akaashi's face as he selected a pencil. "I'm not your soulmate and I'm not you, so it's not really worth putting a lot of thought into if it'll never be up to me to have an opinion on. That's just what you chose to do."
Akaashi pretended those words weren't a big deal as he picked up a 4B and sharpened it.
After all, they really shouldn't have been such a big deal to him. Since when did he care what anyone said about his choices?
When 'Tsukki' got home, Akaashi learned that in the case of friendship outside of class with Bokuto, he wouldn't have trouble tolerating being around Bokuto's roommate. When he walked in and set his keys down, greeted loudly by Bokuto, the first thing that he said was,
"Didn't you say you were going to make dinner tonight?"
Bokuto's eyes snapped up from the drawing that he'd already managed to focus on like he'd never been distracted and he'd smiled innocently.
"Did I?"
"You did."
"Mm, that's right, I do recall saying that now." He set his pencil down. "Do you mind taking a break for a little bit, Akaashi?"
Akaashi shook his head. It wouldn't have mattered either way, because Bokuto was already up and in the kitchen, rummaging through the fridge for something. He was also already back to talking at a hundred words per minute.
"—which will probably be really good, I think, but Aone says that he thinks it won't work, so I guess we'll see! Oh, I almost forgot—Akaashi, this is Tsukki."
"Tsukishima," the blond said, in placement of a hello. Akaashi really couldn't have cared less what the greeting was, as long as he got to answer back just as simply.
"Mm," sufficed, Akaashi decided, and if Tsukishima was at all offended by the noncommittal reply he didn't show it. He didn't really seem to care too much about Akaashi's presence in general, though. Akaashi couldn't say that he was complaining about that, either, though.
Bokuto set the oven to preheat, and Akaashi wondered in the back of his mind if he was good at cooking. He decided that he would probably be surprised when it came to that, as well. As hyper as Bokuto was, he had proven to be able to concentrate better than Akaashi could.
Tsukishima wasn't at all what Akaashi was expecting. They fit together perfectly, though, somehow. Tsukishima wasn't particularly conversational, but replied to Bokuto and asked little questions to keep his endless stream of words going, whether he was interested or not.
Akaashi and Tsukishima were playing something damn close to a game of 'pretend Akaashi doesn't exist', which Akaashi was pretty glad for, but Bokuto didn't seem to be getting the hint, continually roping Akaashi back into the conversation when he thought he'd finally escaped.
And yet, Tsukishima wasn't rude. He was concise and never once cracked a smile or let emotion seep into his eyes, but he wasn't rude or cold towards Akaashi as they sat across from each other at the counter while Bokuto jabbered away innocently. And when Bokuto disappeared for a long stretch of minutes to go plug his phone in (really, how long did it take?), Tsukishima didn't drop any act that he might have been putting up for the sake of wanting his soulmate to think he liked his friend, which may have meant that Tsukishima genuinely tolerated Akaashi, and Akaashi was surprised to find that he could tolerate Tsukishima just as easily.
Bokuto had returned, innocently saying that his charger hadn't been working so he'd taken 'Tsukki's'.
Tsukishima had rolled his eyes without commenting, and Akaashi wasn't sure if it had been a degree of fondness in his eyes that he'd seen when he'd done it.
It was hardly the last time that Akaashi had been over to Bokuto and Tsukishima's. Whenever they had a project after that they'd pair up and Akaashi would follow Bokuto back to his apartment. Tsukishima would arrive home and they'd ignore each other for a little while, while Bokuto yapped to both of them at once.
Akaashi wasn't quite sure how he hadn't tired of such a talkative person, but he didn't mind the fact that he hadn't. In fact, it was kind of nice being friends with someone in the way that they were.
(Were they friends? Was that what they were? Was Akaashi reading too much into it?)
(They were friends. Bokuto said they were friends to Tsukishima, which must have meant that they were friends.)
(It was kind of strange having a friend like Bokuto. Akaashi wasn't complaining.)
Perhaps what was the strangest part was when they started hanging out just for fun. Sometimes Tsukishima would be there, sometimes he wouldn't. Akaashi never minded him being there, partly because it was interesting to watch how perfectly Tsukishima and Bokuto fit together and partly because he didn't honestly mind the other that much at all. In fact, Akaashi was willing to say that they were maybe…something close to friends?
Acquaintances, perhaps. Because they never saw each other if not for Bokuto, but when they were together while Bokuto was in the bathroom or grabbing something they got along just fine, sometimes talking and sometimes just sitting in comfortable silence.
Maybe that was the best part about knowing Tsukishima. The comfortable silence. He'd never particularly known anyone who had been silent, because the only person that he was really friends with was Bokuto, which was a strange experience in itself, so knowing a quiet person like Tsukki and getting along with him was also somewhat of a weird thing.
But he wasn't complaining.
It was kind of nice, actually.
"What's Tsukishima like?" Akaashi wasn't sure why he'd asked— he certainly didn't care. He hadn't even meant to ask, but the dwindle in Bokuto's flurry of words hadn't seemed right.
"Huh? You've met him."
"No, I mean like... What's he like? When it's just you, and nobody else. What's he really like?" He slid his eyes to look out the window, feeling his face heat up. 'Is that an inappropriate question to ask...? Is that too personal?'
"Oh," Bokuto sounded thoughtful, which was a first. "Well, he's pretty much the same! 'Cept he talks more and he's more... I dunno, he's less angry, I guess? Not that he's angry, but I guess he kinda comes off like that! Anyway, he's, uh, softer? You too, actually."
Akaashi turned back around, raising an eyebrow at Bokuto. "Me?"
"Yeah, you." Bokuto went back to flipping through his textbook. "You're all like... Quiet and angry at people, but not really. Cause you're actually really nice!"
"Really nice..."
"Mm!"
"Oh."
"Hey, Akaashi?" Bokuto snapped the textbook shut, and Akaashi quirked an eyebrow. "When you said you didn't want a soulmate—did you mean it?"
Akaashi frowned, shrugging. "I got my tattoo removed, didn't I?"
"You did," Bokuto agreed, still staring intently at him. "Do you still think that? That it's stupid to have a soulmate? Do you still not want one?"
Akaashi almost snapped, 'Why would I have changed my mind?' Because really, nothing has changed between now and the rest of his life.
But it had. And maybe his head had, too, because he really wasn't sure anymore. Akaashi turned back to the window, frowning still. "Even if I've changed my mind, I can't go back by regretting something."
"So you have, then! I don't think the tattoo itself is the important part of the rela—,"
"I didn't say I changed my mind. I just said changing my mind wouldn't have changed anything else. It doesn't matter, anyway. I don't intend to find my soulmate."
Bokuto hummed, apparently dropping the subject. He did that, when he knew Akaashi was done talking about a certain subject. Maybe that was why it was so easy to be around Bokuto when it was so hard to be around everyone else.
"And anyway," Akaashi's voiced dropped down to something softer and Bokuto looked up in surprise. "I don't think I'd be a very good soulmate, anyway. I don't like people. I don't like going out. I don't like... I don't like talking to people about things. About anything. I'd be so... disappointing."
"You're talking now, aren't you?" Bokuto put the textbook on their table, scrawling down notes on a sheet of paper. "You're a lot like Tsukki, actually! And Tsukki gets along just fine with me, and you, actually!" 'How many times did Bokuto say 'actually' in a single day?'
Akaashi shrugged, writing his own notes down and pretending to focus on the page. "Well... That's your opinion."
They both dropped the subject, focusing on their assignment for real after that. Whether or not Bokuto was right, it didn't really matter in the end... right?
It was raining. It was raining, on the one day that Akaashi had actually planned to go someplace with Bokuto that wasn't his apartment.
Whether the gods were taking pity or hatred out on him, he couldn't really decide.
They still could have gone out, really, but Bokuto had taken it in stride and just pulled out a stack of movies.
"We have a lot of old movies..."
"I don't really watch movies," Akaashi mumbled, then corrected himself when he realized it sounded like he didn't want to watch anything. "So I don't know what any of these are about."
"They're always better the first time, anyway! Looks like you'll just have to trust me when I say that this one's the best of the best," he didn't show Akaashi the title when he slid it into the DVD player. Akaashi figured that yes, he was just going to have to trust Bokuto's judgement.
The movie was old, but not so old that everything was black and white. Just old enough that all the girls were in colored dresses and all the boys wore tan slacks and white t-shirts.
Bokuto's hair has flattened slightly in the rain, and Akaashi couldn't help but watch him instead of the movie. Was he just bad with people? Was he supposed to be staring like this? Was he just not USED to having someone there to stare at? Was it because he actually looked CUTE with his hair like that, without all the gel to keep it out of his eyes?
If Bokuto noticed, he didn't say. That was fine. That meant that Akaashi could keep thinking about how nice Bokuto's eyes—
No. No, he couldn't keep thinking that. Yes—yes he could, because nobody was going to know what he was thinking, and nobody was going to know that Akaashi thought that the innocence and vibrancy about Bokuto—
Akaashi really, really needed to start hanging out with other people. His social skills weren't just lacking anymore, they were downright atrocious. The whole point of boycotting a soulmate was to fall in love with someone on his own, but the point was also to not have to fall in love, but by choosing to do so. And this was far from choosing.
Akaashi wouldn't call it love, the feeling that squeezed his chest like a vice when he saw Bokuto's eyes gleam after a sad commercial. He wouldn't call it love, the way that he felt the need to make those eyes happy again. Maybe it was just eyes. He'd felt guilty about the reluctance in Kuroo's eyes, anyway.
It was terrible, the need to see happiness in eyes.
"Oh, this is the best part." Bokuto's eyes were still absorbed in the movie, and he was still completely unaware of Akaashi's thoughts. Akaashi's own eyes moved back to the movie. He didn't have a clue what was going on. "This is where they fall in love..."
"You mean this is where they think they fall in love."
"No," Bokuto tore his eyes away from the movie, his eyes wide. "This is where they fall in love. She likes everything about him and he likes everything about her—'Kaashi," Akaashi raised an eyebrow at the new nickname. "Soulmates are two souls who match perfectly. It's natural that people would fall in love with perfectly matching souls... See, that's why people are soulmates. Soulmates are people you just can't help but... fall in love with."
Akaashi stared.
"Ah, but that's a silly way of thinking, isn't it?" Bokuto laughed, shrugging and looking back at the movie. "That's how it was with Tsukki, I guess. I would've loved him even if I hadn't had a tattoo telling me to. It just would have happened more slowly, I think, because I wouldn't be looking for things to love about him, and it would just kind of…happen, I guess? Like people without soulmates, or people who fall in love with someone who isn't their soulmate."
"If we have soulmates, then why do people still fall in love with other people?" Akaashi pounced on the chance for an argument, not entirely sure why he was so eager to prove Bokuto wrong.
"Having a matching soul with someone doesn't mean you'll love them for sure," Bokuto was still smiling while he watched the movie, his eyes following the actors' hands. "It just means that you'll probably get along really well with them. So, like, of course people fall in love with other people. It's just common that you fall in love with your soulmate? I guess you're probably right about the whole thing being influenced, though. How many people would have really found their soulmate without the marks?"
Akaashi really didn't know what he was supposed to say to that, or even what was going through his own mind. Bokuto didn't even notice when he didn't reply, though, eyes still enraptured in the screen, where the girl and the boy were just falling so naïvely into what they thought was love.
Maybe it was. Maybe they really were so entrenched in some sort of feeling that they were willing to throw away any choices they could have made for themselves in favor of listening to a little mark on their skin. Stuck there, clinging like a parasite and sucking away the ability to think forthemselves.
If you asked Akaashi why he hated the soulmate-markings, he probably would have said that exactly. Or, he would have before, because now he wasn't too sure.
Tsukishima got home at the same time as always, shutting the door softly behind him and sitting down at the table without paying any mind to the two boys on the couch. The most attention he gave them was to reply to Bokuto's enthusiastic greeting.
Akaashi thought it was funny how Bokuto greeted Tsukishima. Every day that Akaashi was over, Bokuto greeted him like they hadn't seen each other in days, rather than a couple of hours. It was like Bokuto constantly expected Tsukishima to disappear for a couple of days and he came home it was a pleasant surprise.
It was cute, even if Akaashi wasn't willing to admit that just yet. A lot of things about Bokuto were cute, actually. A lot of things about him were interesting and captivating and god damn it, when did he become so smitten with someone who had a soulmate? It was infuriating, and Akaashi really needed to start meeting other people, because he was beginning to think that 'friendship' was even somewhat close to 'love'.
"Oi, Tsukki, come watch with us." Bokuto twisted around where he was sitting to peer at Tsukishima, who didn't even bother glancing over when he replied.
"I have to finish an essay."
Bokuto huffed, still grinning. "It's due Wednesday, you have plenty of time. You said you liked this movie, right?"
"I've seen it before. What's the point in watching it again? And just because it isn't due tomorrow doesn't mean that it's not a better idea to—,"
"Tsukki."
Tsukishima sent Bokuto a halfhearted glare as he closed his laptop. Akaashi panicked, briefly, as he wondered if he should move to sit somewhere else. Tsukishima and Bokuto would want to sit together, right? And it would just be kind of weird sitting with them, obviously. But would it seemrude to move someplace else, even if it was so that they could sit together?
God, Akaashi hated having to deal with people. Emotions were too complex, too complicated. People were too complex. While Akaashi was on the verge of breaking out in a cold sweat, Tsukishima sat on the smaller couch and stretched his legs out so that they still managed to hang over the end of the couch. God were his legs long.
Bokuto, blissfully aware to the crisis happening in Akaashi's mind, turned back to watch the movie, content with the arrangement. Assuring himself that everything had been sorted out, Akaashi tried to turn his own attention back to the movie. (Not that he'd ever been watching it in the first place…)
And just as Akaashi was beginning to get some sort of grasp of the plot (boy hasn't got a soulmate, boy falls in love with a girl, girl probably has a soulmate), Bokuto decided that he'd lost interest.
"What if I got a tattoo?"
Tsukishima never really bothered to look up when he replied to Bokuto. Akaashi wondered if he even needed to. "What would you get a tattoo of? An owl?"
"Oh, yeah! An owl would be cool, Tsukki."
"An owl would be stupid."
Bokuto pouted, like he was six and not fully grown. "Don't be mean, Tsukki."
"I'm not being mean," Tsukishima shrugged. "I'm being honest. Are you really even thinking about it?"
"Yeah! I think it's cool. It's not like we'd share that one, anyway, so an owl would be okay." Bokuto twisted again to look at Akaashi, who had been violently trying to stay out of the conversation. "C'mon, 'Kaashi, wouldn't an owl be a cool tattoo?"
Akaashi felt himself flush and he half-wanted to sink into the couch and disappear for just a little bit. This movie was on Netflix, if he really wanted to know how it ended. Maybe he should just stand up and leave right now. "If that's what you want to get. It's not really up to me, is it?"
"Mm, guess not!" Bokuto grinned, sticking his tongue out at Tsukishima. Akaashi wasn't completely convinced that he was really twenty-something.
Tsukishima snorted softly from where he was sitting, shrugging halfheartedly. "I wasn't saying you couldn't. But don't go get a tattoo on impulse; you won't be able to get rid of it after that."
"Untrue! Akaashi's gotten a tattoo removed before."
Akaashi really did flush that time. He knew he was probably deep red, and if there really was a merciful God up there he would take pity on Akaashi and keep their eyes attuned to the TV.
There was no merciful God. Tsukishima looked over at them, face devoid of emotion completely. "Are you trying to tell me that you're going to go and get a tattoo on impulse, and have it removed if you decide you don't like it, because Akaashi got a tattoo removed, so it's a fool-proof plan?"
"Mm-hmm."
"And, what, if you regret getting rid of it you'll just have it put back on?"
"Oh, that's a good idea."
Tsukishima groaned, turning back to the movie that nobody was watching. "Okay, do whatever."
"You'd have to go with me. To hold my hand."
"What?"
"In case it hurts. Does it hurt, Akaashi?"
"I don't know. I never got a tattoo, I just got one removed. But it hurt getting it removed." Maybe the merciless God would take pity on him for being so pathetic. Maybe Akaashi would get an urgent text from somebody saying he absolutely had to leave right then and there.
Akaashi wasn't really sure who would text him, though, because the only person who he ever even talked to was Bokuto. And Bokuto wasn't going to text him saying that he had to leave right then and there because Akaashi was sitting right next to Bokuto.
"That's fine! It's still a good idea."
"It's a terrible idea." Tsukishima seemed to have given up, shrugging once more. His voice went back to the unwavering, emotionless monotone. It was kind of weird, not knowing exactly what Tsukishima was thinking in the same way that he'd become used to knowing what Bokuto was thinking.
People were too complex. It would be so much easier if Akaashi just went back to never going anywhere other than home and classes.
Bokuto wasn't kidding, in the end. He really had been set on some sort of tattoo. Akaashi never bothered to ask what it was that made the whole thing seem so appealing to him, but didn't say no when Bokuto dragged him along with Tsukishima when Bokuto really did get it.
The tattoo parlor was emptier than it had been when Akaashi had gone in. There was maybe one or two people getting tattoos in the back, but the only other person in the building was Kuroo, who lounged leaning on the counter. Tsukishima yawned when they walked in, already holding hands with Bokuto. Akaashi found that aspect kind of cute, honestly, their hand-holding.
Something changed in Kuroo's face when he made eye contact with Akaashi. Akaashi remembered those eyes, the reluctance and the humor that had been in them before. There wasn't much in them not, just tiredness. Akaashi wondered why he was tired. He wondered why he cared at all if somebody he didn't know what tired.
"Back again?" Kuroo straightened up, sliding his phone into his pocket.
"No," Akaashi muttered, glancing down and out the window. He let Bokuto bound forward, talking excitedly to Kuroo and making equally excited gestures towards the tattoo that he planned on getting. Akaashi glanced at Tsukishima, wondering if he was at all bothered by any of this. He caught the other's eye, flushing slightly when they made eye contact.
"You're so nervous all the time." Tsukishima started to follow Bokuto to the back of the parlor, breaking the contact. "Loosen up."
"Ahhh, look how cool, Tsukki!" Bokuto's silver hair fell into his eyes, ungelled for once, as he proudly showed the tattoo to his soulmate. "Isn't it cool?"
"It's nice," Tsukishima appeased, sounding like he was more focused on rummaging through his pockets for his keys.
He found them, unlocking the door and walking in. Tsukishima tossed his keys onto the counter, glancing back at Bokuto before moving into the kitchen to make dinner. "I thought you were just getting the one?"
"Huh? I just got the owl, cause owls are cool."
"And the one on your arm by our tattoo."
Akaashi glanced at the inside of Bokuto's arm, to the two birds. There was a single circle on the inside of his arm, which made a panicked flutter go through Akaashi's stomach. Wasn't that his mark? Wasn't that in the exact same placing?
No, no, his was further over. That was just a creepy coincidence, and Akaashi wasn't really sure why Bokuto would have wanted a stupid circle there on his arm, anyway.
"I didn't get anything on my arm—oh…" Bokuto was staring down at his arm, having rolled up his sleeve, paused where he was standing in the hallway. He unfroze after a moment, going to the kitchen and grabbing Tsukishima's arm. Bokuto rolled up the sleeve, tracing over something with his finger.
"What are you doing?"
"You have it, too…" Tsukishima stopped flipping through the recipe book to follow Bokuto's gaze down to his arm. "What does that mean? Is that another soulmate mark, do you think…?"
Tsukishima frowned, still staring at his arm. "It can't be. That's not how soulmates work." He shook his head, turning back to dinner like nothing had happened in the first place.
"Tsukki," Bokuto insisted, tugging back his own sleeve. "They don't just show up, right? Have we met anyone new today? Why else would a circleshow up on both of our arms in the middle of the birds?"
"I don't know, Bokuto," Tsukishima sighed, putting down the spoon he'd been holding. He turned to face Bokuto, still frowning slightly.
"Kuroo." Akaashi flushed when they both turned to look at him. "You met Kuroo today—n-not that I'm saying Kuroo's got anything to do with this, just that you met him today…"
"Kuroo? I don't know anyone called that." Frowns didn't look right on Bokuto's face. Up until now Akaashi couldn't even picture a serious frown on Bokuto's face. He couldn't put the words 'serious' and 'Bokuto' together, actually.
Akaashi willed away the blush the best that he could. "The guy who did your tattoo."
"Oh…" Bokuto fell silent again, glancing over at Tsukishima like he would have the answers. "Three soulmates? Does that happen? That can't be what it means." His eyes were silently pleading for Tsukishima to explain the whole mess.
"I don't know, Bo. Maybe if we went there to talk to see if anything happened on his arm? He's the only person we talked to today."
"Then we have to goright now, or it's gonna close!" Bokuto grabbed his coat, tugging it on. He shoved Tsukishima's coat towards him. "Maybe he doesn't have anything to do with this, but we've gotta know, right?"
"Wouldn't you rather think it over…?" Tsukishima mumbled. He would follow Bokuto there, if Bokuto went. Even if Tsukishima didn't want to, he would follow Bokuto. Even if he thought Bokuto was being stupid or moving too quickly, if Bokuto went out there to find Kuroo, Tsukishima would look with him. Bokuto grabbed his keys. Tsukishima pulled on his own coat.
"Are you coming, Akaashi? You've met Kuroo before, if you know his name."
Akaashi flushed again. Didn't Tsukishima know they were supposed to pretend Akaashi didn't exist? Had they ever even spoken before? "Not re—,"
"Well, it'll make it easier to find him if he's already left work!" Bokuto urged them, flinging open the door and bustling into the hallway. Akaashi could hear his footsteps pounding down the hall to the elevator from the kitchen. Tsukishima shrugged, following.
Akaashi wondered how far Tsukishima would follow Bokuto. How far was Akaashi willing to follow Bokuto? Bokuto, who had a soulmate, and who Akaashi should probably just leave alone.
He shut the door behind him when he followed them to the elevator.
For all the rush, it didn't look like Kuroo was getting off work any time soon. He was still draped over the counter and absorbed in his phone, looking lazy and punk with his hair falling into his face and his baggy, black shirt. When they walked in he didn't even glance up.
"How can I help you?" He asked in a bored voice, shutting his phone off with an electronic click.
"Let me see your arm!" Bokuto demanded loudly, pointing at Kuroo. Akaashi winced, already regretting his choice to come along as a man in the back turned to look at them.
"Bokuto," Tsukishima hissed from behind his boyfriend. "Seriously."
"Sorry. May I please see your arm?" Bokuto's boyfriend rolled his eyes from next to Akaashi. Kuroo stared at them.
"What? My arm? Which one?" His eyes weren't as confused as the rest of him seemed, but he still looked like he didn't have a clue what was going on. Maybe he did, the same way that Bokuto and Tsukishima knew.
"Your left one!" Bokuto continued pointing. Akaashi could feel his face turning redder. Kuroo raised an eyebrow, tugging his sleeve up and showing it to Bokuto.
"Weren't you in here earlier?"
"Yes!" Bokuto's finger moved from Kuroo's face down to his arm. "It's on your arm, too! Except, yours is different." Bokuto frowned again, moving aside to let Tsukishima see.
"Huh? What's on my arm?" Kuroo pulled his sleeve down again, straightening up. "You're talking about the soulmate mark. It changed, earlier. I thought people were only supposed to have one soulmate, though."
"Why does no one else sound surprised about this?" Bokuto whined, looking accusingly at Tsukishima. "This isn't some boring politics talk! This is abig deal." He stressed the words 'big deal' like he could talk it into them to being shell-shocked over the whole thing.
"It's got to be a mistake, right?" Kuroo ventured. "Three soulmates? Anyway, it doesn't mean we're soulmates, does it?"
"We're not talking about dinner! It's not a casual conversation!" Bokuto continued whining.
"Matching soulmate tattoos usually mean that." Tsukishima shrugged, hands in his pockets.
"Tsukki."
"But we've both already got soulmates," Kuroo frowned. "Your tattoos matched earlier, before they changed. That's why mine is different. If we'resoulmates, then you'd be soulmates with my soulmate, too."
"Akaashi," Bokuto resorted to spinning around to face his friend. "Make them stop talking about dinner." Kuroo's eyes flicked upwards to stare at Akaashi, like he hadn't seen him before.
Akaashi stuck his hands up in an 'I surrender' gesture. "I'm not a part of this." When Tsukishima's eyes turned to look at him it occurred to Akaashi that everyone was staring at him now.
"Your soulmate," Tsukishima turned back to Kuroo. "The tattoo wouldn't show up on us if their soul wasn't connected to the whole soulmate aura anymore. That's the only reason that a soul wouldn't match up with a perfect match. And if your soul is a perfect match, then their soul matchesours."
"Four soulmates," Bokuto groaned.
"It was your idea to come here, wise guy," Tsukishima snapped. "And we still know that we're all… what does your tattoo look like, if it looks different?"
Akaashi's eyes trailed down Kuroo's arm when he tugged his sleeve up again. The two birds, identical to Bokuto and Tsukishima's, flew on the top and bottom of a cliché infinity sigh, rather than the single circle on the other's arms. Kuroo shrugged, looking uncomfortable. "It was just the infinity sign before. My tattoo was just the circle that you have."
"Should your soulmate be here to hear this?" Akaashi probably shouldn't have said anything, because they were all looking at him again, now. Not to mention, this wasn't his mess in the first place and he should probably have just sneaked out the back. Kuroo frowned, though Akaashi wasn't sure why.
"My soulmate doesn't want one soulmate, much less three."
"How can someone not want a soulmate?" Bokuto was back to whining.
Akaashi scowled at him, snapping, "maybe they want to decide on their own and not listen to a dumb tattoo!"
"That's not what I mean, 'Kaashi!"
"Well think before you speak and stop whining!"
"You're all acting like it's not even important!"
"Maybe it's not." Tsukishima's voice was a bland contrast.
"Tsukki!"
"Stop arguing." Kuroo sounded tired. "Honestly, if you want to just go home and pretend this didn't happen, go for it. It'd make all this a lot easier."
Bokuto pouted again, thumb trailing over the edge of the counter. "Do you not want a soulmate, either?" Kuroo shrugged, eyes shifting away.
"Well, it's a nice thought. But it's not for everyone, apparently."
The room quieted for the first time since Bokuto had arrived with his loud shouting. Akaashi was surprised to see that the entire building wasn't staring at them. Maybe this was a common occurrence here?
"No," Tsukishima spoke up again, voice decisive. "I don't think I would be able to just go back home knowing that we have another soulmate someplace else that we never really spoke to. Two soulmates."
Kuroo's eyes flicked back over to Akaashi's and his heart sped up, pounding in his chest. Bokuto was talking again, but all he could hear was the blood rushing in his ears. Those damn eyes. Maybe Akaashi didn't want his own soulmate because he had a knack for falling in love with other people's soulmates.
Akaashi straightened up, tearing his gaze away and flushing once more. "This doesn't have anything to do with me. I shouldn't be here for this. I hope you figure it out, though."
"Hey—!" Kuroo called after him as he pushed the door open and walked outside as calmly as he could.
Akaashi waited until he'd wrapped around the corner of the street to start running. Why did he do that? What was so special about Kuroo or Bokutoor Tsukishima?
Why did it matter so much that they were all there finding out they had three soulmates? That sucked for them, right? Just more of a mess to fall into, right?
But god, what if Bokuto was right? It didn't seem fake anymore, not with the way that they held hands and spoke to each other and greeted each other. How could that be fake? That was love, what was in their eyes when they greeted each other. Love and affection and gentleness in all honesty, all because of a stupid tattoo.
"I would have fallen in love with Tsukki, anyway."
What a burden, love was. That's all it was, just a messy burden that made you do stupid things for stupid people that you didn't really care about.
He would follow Bokuto anywhere.
Making dumb sacrifices for dumb people. Kuroo wanted a soulmate, didn't he? And he was just going to sit back and never fall in love because his soulmate didn't want a match?
Akaashi may have been doing that to someone. He may have been doing that to somebody, somebody who he'd never even met. It wasn't his fault, though. It wasn't his fault that this whole stupid system was in place.
It was too late to regret it. The tattoo was already gone, and he could meet his soulmate any day and he wouldn't ever know it. They wouldn't ever know it. Somebody was going to go through their life thinking they never had a soulmate in the first place, and if they were as committed to the system and everyone else was, they'd live a sad, lonely life alone and it would be because Akaashi was too selfish to go along with what fate wanted.
"I'm pretty sure you can't get it back." What had that meant? Had that been Kuroo's way of saying 'don't regret it'? Akaashi had been convinced that Kuroo regretted removing it more than Akaashi regretted having it moved. That had been what he wanted. That had been what he was so sure of, and he'd thought he'd never go back on that sureness in a million years.
He wasn't so sure, anymore. If there was any way to go back, he just might have.
Apparently they worked something out. According to Bokuto they hadn't, and the conversation had just ended in them exchanging numbers and deciding that was good enough.
It must not have been 'good enough' there, though, because they texted every day and it took a whole week and a half for Bokuto to start investing time into going to get coffee with Kuroo.
Tsukishima and Akaashi were acquaintances. They tolerated each other because Bokuto was their middle ground. With Bokuto out doing more than just watching an inane amount of movies now, though, Akaashi ended up still going over to their apartment. That left Tsukishima there to see. They still didn't talk much, but maybe that was just because neither of them was too fond of words.
Bokuto was usually there to make it seem loud. Akaashi didn't feel as if they'd lost Bokuto, he just felt like it was strange not having him around when Akaashi had become so accustomed to seeing him constantly.
Akaashi ended up asking Tsukishima what he thought of the whole thing. Apparently he hadn't made up his mind on what he wanted, yet. He would leave the whole thing to Bokuto, who could obviously be friends with Kuroo if he wanted to.
"They're soulmates, too. I'm not going to stop them from seeing each other. I just…don't know if I want to change anything."
"If Bokuto ends up wanting to, though—,"
"I know." Tsukishima didn't sound angry. What he was saying wasn't to quell Akaashi's curiosity, and it was all the truth. "And maybe I'd change my mind, then. We aren't soulmates for nothing."
There had been a pause, then. Akaashi didn't know if he should continue or if Tsukishima would prefer silence. And he still wasn't sure why he cared.
"You don't want a soulmate." Tsukishima wasn't even looking at him, but his voice made Akaashi wonder if he could see right through him. "But what if your soulmate wants one? If you met them on the street, and you knew, somehow, what would you do?"
Akaashi paused, shrugging. His fingers ran over the cold countertop. The granite was fake. "I don't know. I wouldn't drop everything and pretend to fall in love."
"Do you think we're pretending? Bokuto and I?"
"No," Akaashi whispered. "You're not. But that doesn't mean I wouldn't be."
Tsukishima hummed dully in response, his voice still void of emotion. "Kuroo's soulmate didn't want a soulmate, even if he was fond of the idea. They don't even talk."
Akaashi didn't reply, shrugging and staring down at the countertop. Tsukishima didn't push the topic any further, leaving it be how it was. Akaashi couldn't bring himself to be entirely glad, thinking over what Tsukishima said.
"I couldn't know, anyway. I might have met my soulmate by now. It wouldn't show up on either of us. Maybe I regret doing what I did, but I can't go back anymore."
Tsukishima didn't say anything, and the clock ticked too loudly in the background. It was an old clock, and it was so deafeningly loud that Akaashi couldn't believe he'd never noticed it before.
Being friends with Bokuto and (evidently) Tsukishima meant also knowing Kuroo. How in the world Akaashi went from a sole friend to work on projects with to Saturday nights at dinner with three other people, he wasn't sure.
It wasn't like too much had changed, honestly. It felt the same as it had when he'd first started hanging out with Bokuto. It still felt just as right, and just as terrifying. He still spent the whole night silently chanting a mantra of 'please don't look at me, please don't talk to me, please don't notice me', but it was still nice to be around them.
Kuroo fit in with them casually, like he'd run into Bokuto during class, too, and not like they'd found out they were soulmates. Nobody ever brought up the topic, and nobody ever acted like anything changed other than Kuroo's presence. And Kuroo himself fit in with them perfectly. It was probably because he was with his soulmates (and Akaashi, but who even noticed Akaashi was there anymore?).
They were a jigsaw puzzle. Each piece snapping perfectly together, fitting so perfectly it was as if they'd never been apart in the first place. Wherever the fourth piece was, whoever they were, they didn't want to be a part of the puzzle. And Akaashi hated them for it. Jealously, selfishly hated them for it. These perfect boys, these perfect boys in their perfect puzzle, and someone willingly stayed away? Maybe they didn't want a soulmate—neither did Akaashi—but how could they stay away completely when they knew someone as perfect as Kuroo existed?
Akaashi loved them. He loved them all. And he hated himself for loving them the way that he did. Maybe he himself wasn't supposed to love someone the way that they all loved each other (even Kuroo, who fit perfectly in Bokuto's side and who was just the right height to hug Tsukishima comfortably), but he was, at the very least, grateful that he'd seen them all together. Maybe if he hadn't he would still be hateful and bitter and disbelieving, but maybe that would have been better.
Their secondhand love was better than sitting alone at the front of the 3A lecture hall, Akaashi had decided. He wasn't as important to them as they were to each other, but that was alright, really. He didn't want to be important to them. If he was important to them, they'd rely on him for things. Could he do that for them—for anyone? Could he follow someone into something he wasn't prepared for? Could he trust someone wholeheartedly? Could he ever love someone the way that they'd need to be loved? He'd be a terrible soulmate. He'd be a truly terrible soulmate from start to end, and there wasn't any way that it could possibly be better for him to be with someone.
Akaashi wouldn't talk when they wanted to talk. He wouldn't be able to answer the way that they wanted him to answer and he wouldn't be able to follow them how they needed to be followed. Akaashi wasn't good for doing, he was good for watching.
He watched them all fall in love, he watched them all exchange favorite movies, he watched them all argue over popcorn and he watched them all argue over who had to pick up the popcorn. He watched them all settle on the couch together, curled up warmly and fitting together in that perfect jigsaw puzzle.
He watched them from the floor, and he didn't mind even once, because it was better than doing.
Akaashi would much rather watch them all argue playfully than be one of them, curling up on the couch. How were you supposed to do that? Was there a way that you were supposed to sit, to fit together how they did? And what about their playful arguing? What if he didn't want to argue, what if he didn't want to say anything at all? And what was he supposed to say, anyway?
No, it was much better to watch from afar than to truly love someone wholeheartedly the way that they all did.
He watched, still, as Kuroo and Bokuto muted the movie and voiced it over themselves. And he watched, still, as Tsukishima called them both idiots with fondness creeping through his voice. He watched, still, as Bokuto got up to make more popcorn and he watched Bokuto burn said popcorn so badly that Tsukishima got up to make a batch himself.
He could hear them bickering in the kitchen, but he didn't hear Kuroo get up to join them.
Akaashi tipped his head back to look at Kuroo, who offered him a small smile.
"It's not just 'settled', anymore." Akaashi mumbled, looking back at the muted movie, like he had any idea what was going on plot-wise.
"Huh?" Akaashi felt Kuroo stretch his legs out over the whole couch.
"Before, you said you'd just settled things…but you weren't really anything with them. You all just acted like you'd met someplace as friends. But…you're soulmates, now. Like, really soulmates. You all fit together."
Kuroo hummed, tilting his head back to watch them. "Well, that's how soulmates work, y'know? It's the person, or the people, that you fit with perfectly. I bet you'd fit together just as well with your soulmate."
"No," Akaashi picked at the dry skin on his hand. "I wouldn't. I'm not…really…good for that kind of thing."
"You can't be bad at being a soulmate," Kuroo insisted.
"Yes you can. Soulmates—you have to be devoted to them. All the time, in movies and in books and here, everyone's so in love. They're crazy. They do everything for each other, they follow each other, they're…they're made for each other, and you can tell. That's how it works. But I… I don't know, I don't get people. I don't like people. Until I met Bokuto, I never saw anyone outside of class, because there wasn't any point." Akaashi shook his head, biting his lip. He forced himself not to look at Kuroo, trying to voice his thoughts.
"I could never do that. I could never devote myself to someone like that. I can't fit how everyone else seems to fit. Nobody makes sense, I'd just make a mess of it. Getting a disappointing soulmate is worse than no soulmate. I can fumble through this, through friendship, but not…not that. Not when it means so much to everyone. I don't want to mess that up. But I would."
The TV hummed quietly on its little stand. The characters on the screen were saying something, exchanging soft little words that Akaashi couldn't make out. Nobody said anything for a million years. There was one million years of silence, then, dragging on and on and never ending.
"Akaashi," Kuroo whispered, finally. "C'mere."
His breath hitched, slightly, and he didn't move for another million years. And finally, finally, his brain remembered how to control his heavy limbs and he shifted, clambering up onto the couch and continuing to refuse to look at Kuroo.
"Can you look at me?"
Of course Akaashi couldn't do that. If he looked into those eyes, he'd lose it. He'd lose his mind and his sanity and everything that he'd ever had.
Akaashi looked at him.
"You wouldn't be a bad soulmate. I don't think your soulmate would be very disappointed at all, actually." A pause. "I'm not disappointed, at least."
"What does that have to do with anything?" Akaashi breathed, looking back at the ground. Tsukishima and Bokuto had long-since stopped making all their noise in the kitchen. He didn't have to look there to know that they'd gone silent because they'd heard the conversation happening in the living room. What ever happened to movie night?
"Remember when you came in to get your tattoo removed? The first time I met you? You didn't look at your tattoo the entire time, and you just stared out the window instead. I don't know what was out there that was so interesting, but you never once looked anywhere else." Another pause, longer than the first time. "But it looked the same as mine did, just to the left. A circle. A stupid, thin circle, when everyone else had birds and trees and flowers and diamonds and other cliché, beautiful things.
"Mine was a circle, too. And instead of having a second half show up, instead of having another circle show up, they kind of…merged together? They twisted on the inside and got smoother—I wish you'd seen it, it was really cool." Akaashi didn't know when he'd stopped breathing, but his lungs were begging for air. "My mom always told me what to do when I met my soulmate. Proper manners and chivalry, you know? But she never told me what to do if they came in looking to get their tattoo removed. But you didn't want a soulmate, and you wanted the tattoo gone, and that was my job. Who the hell was I to talk you out of that?
"Sometimes I wish I didn't, though. Sometimes I wish I spun you around and said it to your face, told you then and there who I was to you, who you were to me. Watching you leave sucked. It really did. But I'm not disappointed. I've never been disappointed knowing you're my… knowing you're my soulmate. Our soulmate. And I know you don't want a soulmate—much less three—and that's fine, at least with me. You don't need to do anything different."
Akaashi remembered the carpet being darker than this. Had they moved the TV to the left? Was it to cover that stain that was poking out of the corner of the stand? Probably.
"Okay," he whispered, trying to wrap his mind around that. The yearning desire to be with them had morphed into a desire to never have anything like that, earlier. It wasn't either right now. It wasn't either of those things right now. Right now Akaashi didn't have any clue what he wanted. From them, from himself, from anything or anybody.
People were too confusing for this.
"Oi, 'Kaashi." Again, 'Bokuto' and 'serious' didn't fit together well, and Akaashi would be startled at the combination no matter how many times he heard or saw it. "Kuroo's right. I—uh, actually didn't know that myself before now, and it's kind of a lot to think about? But he's still right."
Akaashi couldn't do that. He couldn't be with them, or be like them. Maybe that's why he had three of them. When he turned tail and ran, they'd still have each other, and there would be so many of them that they wouldn't even have the time to mourn the loss with all the time they were spending together forgetting about Akaashi.
Where would Akaashi be, then? Where would he be at all without Bokuto?
Akaashi clenched his fists, almost angrily. Was he angry? He didn't feel angry. If he didn't close his eyes now, would he cry? Was he sad? He didn't feel sad. He didn't feel much of anything but confused.
"I said I wouldn't do this—," Akaashi had sworn he'd never do this. "I said I wouldn't love someone because a tattoo told me I had to, and I didn't. But I ended up falling in love anyway. I can't do those things for you. I can't, and I'm sorry. I'll never be able to be who you need me to be."
"Why do you think you can't?"
"I don't understand what I need to say, or do," it was hopeless, trying to explain it all to them. It would be easier to turn-tail and run away. It was hopeless, trying not to cry now. "You all talk to each other, you all talk and you all know what to say and it runs smoothly—and I'd never know what to say."
"We've talked plenty of times. When you're not caught up in thinking about trying to say the perfect thing. You don't need to try, Akaashi. You're fine how you are. Talking isn't about making the perfect conversation, it's just saying what you're thinking. We're talking now." Kuroo's voice was firm.
Akaashi's voice was weak, almost brittle. "Soulmates are supposed to fit together." His argument was just as weak, now. His voice was weak, his resolve was weak, and he was on the verge of crying for real.
Warm arms enveloped him, wrapping around his waist and covering him like a blanket. A head rested on his shoulder. "We fit together perfectly," Kuroo mumbled, sounding proud of himself. The couch sank behind him, and another pair of arms and the smell of Bokuto's shampoo joined the mix.
"It would be weird not having you around now," Bokuto agreed. "So it wouldn't matter if you weren't our soulmate—I would've loved you anyway!"
Does he remember saying that, about Tsukishima, all those months ago?
"You already fit, stupid," Tsukishima's voice was gruff, and he didn't join the hug, but he was sitting there next to them all and it didn't matter that they weren't hugging because Akaashi was pretty sure the tears would have come out, anyway. He felt like a toddler.
"I got rid of the mark," he reminded them.
"We all have it," Bokuto's voice was dismissive. "It's not important."
"Then what is important?"
"I've wanted to hug you for like, five months, and here I am hugging you."
Akaashi laughed, a hiccup-y, wet sounding laugh. "You could've just done it."
"What?" Bokuto whined, groaning. He bounced back quickly. "Well, that's fine! It's better now."
Tsukishima unmuted the movie and Bokuto pulled himself off of Akaashi. He grinned quickly before his eyes darted over to the movie. Kuroo untangled himself, too, but didn't draw back. Akaashi didn't object, shifting hesitantly to lean against his chest to watch the movie. It wouldn't be possible to watch it now. If Akaashi thought it was hard to follow before, it was hopeless now that he was thinking so hard about something that he didn't want to think about.
Everything was going to change now. Akaashi could cling to it, but everything was going to change and spiral out of control. They'd be fine. They'd hold themselves together like it wasn't a big deal, and Akaashi would be left falling apart piece by piece until the pieces were too small to glue back together. They'd be fine. They'd always be fine.
This movie wouldn't be long enough for Akaashi to figure everything out before it was over, even if Bokuto had started it over.
Akaashi expected them to jump right into a relationship. Holding hands, sitting together, romantic gestures and other terrifying prospects.
He wasn't sure why he was so worried about that. They didn't force anything onto Kuroo, and Kuroo was open to everything they'd wanted. Kuroo was open to what Akaashi wanted, too, offering to keep things the way they were. Was that what they wanted? Would be upset them by saying he didn't want to be a part of what they had? He wouldn't be able to keep up.
Akaashi, in all honesty, wanted things to stay how they were. Knowing that he would have had the same tattoo as all of them meant that he was allowed to watch movies with them and he was allowed to go places with them without it being strange anymore. He knew they wanted to make something of it, because they were supposed to have matching marks on their arms. But they didn't. They didn't have matching tattoos. They didn't have any reason to feel obligated to do things with him, and yet they still did.
Because they wanted to be his soulmates. Because their souls matched, and that made them all happy.
Akaashi didn't want to be the reason they felt disappointed. When they asked, he agreed. He knew they wouldn't be mad if he said no, and they wouldn't be mad if he said what he wanted to say, but... he'd be the reason those eyes looked sad.
They all got closer and closer, and Akaashi stayed where he was. They piled onto Bokuto's bed and Akaashi could hear them talking softly and laughing from the couch. (Where he chose to be, they always asked him if he wanted to join them).
Somehow, they'd gone from talking to kissing. Akaashi didn't want to be with them, but sometimes he almost wished he was. Gentle kisses given as sweet hellos, quick kisses for good-byes, long kisses to shut someone up. They're given and taken like they're not a Big Deal.
They're a very Big Deal, and Akaashi was not ready.
"Tsukki and I always go to California in May," Bokuto almost walked into a pole, not looking up from his phone. "We still haven't decided if we're going this year, though."
"Why not?" Kuroo placed a hand on Bokuto's shoulder to steer him out of the way of a woman. "You've got pictures on your phone from last year that we've seen. It looks fun."
"Because I'm asking you if you want to come too. Two weeks is too long to not see you, so just come with!"
Akaashi flushed. What do you say to that kind of thing? If he said yes, would that be intruding? Was Bokuto asking to be polite, or did they really want Kuroo and Akaashi to come along? Or maybe just Kuroo? But, if Bokuto wanted them to say yes and Akaashi said no, what would that mean?
Kuroo was a guide dog, using his other hand to tap Akaashi's cheek. "Stop over-thinking the question."
"Are you saying you won't go if we don't?" Akaashi rubbed at his arm, willing the panicky redness in his face to go away. "You said you hadn't decided yet."
Bokuto's fingers tapped at the screen and he hummed without sounding focused in the slightest. "Well, yeah. It's always fun, but it would be morefun with you, and we'd probably just miss you a ton the whole time."
"I think it sounds like a lot of fun," Kuroo said. He'd said the same thing when Tsukishima had asked him if he wanted to just move in with them, since he was always over anyway. Did it sound fun? Maybe Kuroo just found terrifying questions fun. Fun, fun, fun.
Akaashi frowned, studying the ground. Their legs were so long, it really wasn't fair how long their strides were…
"Akaashi," Kuroo chided. Stop over-thinking the question!
Akaashi tried to stop over-thinking the question. Did a trip to California with his soulmates sound life fun? Did he want to go if they all went?"Yes."
Bokuto shut off his phone, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk to grin at them. Akaashi tried not to flush again when he made eye-contact with an agitated-looking woman.
"Really? Great!"
"Wait," Kuroo prodded Bokuto and he set off again at his fast-long-legged pace that was completely unfair to shorter people like Akaashi, who had to keep up with him. "California's in America."
"Yes," Akaashi said again.
Kuroo rolled his eyes. "I meant, do you speak English?"
"I speak enough," Bokuto was back on his phone, inches away from stepping on a little girl clutching a sucker. "But Tsukki's mom is from America, so he speaks English, too. Usually I just let him do all the talking."
Ah. A fact about Tsukishima. Akaashi wondered if he could pay Bokuto into just telling him fun facts about Tsukishima, someday.
"Can we get coffee?" Akaashi wanted to be off of the busy sidewalk. He told himself it was so that Bokuto wouldn't trample a passerby or hurt himself running into a stoplight. It was probably because of all the angry-looking people with longer legs, though.
How hard would it be to say 'I don't like being busy places, can we go inside someplace quiet for a few minutes'? It's not like either of them would scoff and refuse.
Then again, it wasn't as if either of them didn't understand what 'can we get coffee' really meant. If Akaashi was one of their favorite people, he was their problematic favorite at the very least.
Akaashi would probably die if he went two weeks without them. He'd survived just fine by himself for years, but now that he'd gone months without being alone for more than nine hours, he would most definitely die if he was ever left to fend for himself again. At least with three soulmates there was always somebody willing to go to the store with you when you were too scared to go by yourself. (Not that Akaashi would ever admit to being scared to fetch milk from the store by himself, but he didn't have to say it for them to understand what 'I'm going to the store for milk, do you want to go?' really meant).
"Mm, yeah, I'm starting to get hungry. There's a place around the corner with really good coffee and bagels." Kuroo plucked Bokuto's phone out of his hand as he almost took out another child. "I'm confiscating this for the evening."
"Kuroo," he whined, not making an attempt to grapple it back.
"Bokuto," Kuroo sang his voice with a lightness in the word that Akaashi would never be able to understand. Was the word light on his tongue naturally, or did he make it that way?
Bokuto must have known the shop Kuroo was talking about, turning at the corner and pushing the door open. A bell chimed loudly when they walked in, and the whole shop smelled like cocoa powder.
Akaashi regretted asking to get coffee. Now he'd have to actually order the coffee, which would mean picking what he wanted and going up there and asking the bored looking man at the counter for it and paying and saying his name for the man to write on a cup and what were the sizes again? Akaashi had made a terrible mistake, and now the entire world was going to fall apart—
"They have a really good green tea lemonade here. You like green tea a lot, right? I think you'd like it, Akaashi." Akaashi's eyes swiveled over to Kuroo.
"Okay," he mumbled.
"Are you going to try that, then? What about you, Bokuto?"
"Peppermint latte," Bokuto's voice was decisive. He ran his fingers through his hair as he peered up at the menu. A disturbed piece of hair fell in front of his eyes. Akaashi hated to admit to himself that it was cute like that.
"It's spring," Akaashi pointed out, watching the hair get pushed back into place.
"They sell them all year! They'd only do that if they were a drink that was appropriate all year." Bokuto argued, shaking his head defiantly. "Besides, it smells really nice."
"What's the difference between a latte and a Frappuccino?" Kuroo shifted his weight when he concentrated, from his right leg to his left leg and back again.
"Kuroo,"
"Bokuto,"
"A latte is caffeinated, better-tasting coffee, and a Frappuccino is an art form."
"That doesn't help me at all," Kuroo muttered, stepping up to order. His voice was just as calm talking to a complete stranger as he ordered like it wasn't a big deal. Akaashi guessed it wouldn't be, not to him, anyway. Akaashi's heart was pounding just thinking about it. He swallowed. Kuroo walked back over to them while they waited for their drinks to finish.
"I got a Frappuccino," Kuroo informed them. "Because I need to know what it is."
"What if you don't like it?" Akaashi was sure Kuroo was going to chide him for worrying over little things again.
Kuroo shrugged, still smiling easily. "Then I'll pretend we got it for Tsukki, like the best soulmates ever."
"Tsukki likes Frappuccinos," Bokuto agreed.
"And if he doesn't like it, we'll throw it away and have an excuse to come back here again. There's a new flavor I want to try, anyway. Do you think Tsukki would—,"
"Thank you." Akaashi interrupted him. Thank you for knowing what I meant when I asked to get coffee and thank you for ordering for me and thank you for doing anything for me and thank you for existing and thank you for everything.
"Ah, I have too many gift cards to this place." Kuroo knew what Akaashi was saying. Of course he knew—he always knew. Akaashi knew what Kuroo was saying, too.