Bokuto was on his apartment balcony, enjoying the warm summer breeze. He had a long day of interviews and needed some time to relax. He had a beer in hand, drinking it at a snail's pace. It was quite late – not too late – but he needed to get to bed early. He had practice the next morning and needed to be in tip top shape.
Just as Bokuto was about to walk inside, the most beautiful sound filled his ears. A violin. It was beautiful, yet very sad. He couldn't move. He was stuck in place by the music. He felt tears prick his eyes and blinked them away. He blamed it on his exhaustion. Bokuto felt himself relax as he leaned back in his chair. He hadn't in a while and it felt good.
The song finished but Bokuto didn't move. He was remembering his time with a long-lost love. After a while, he dried his tears and went back inside.
The next night, Bokuto was back on his balcony, waiting. He wanted to continue listening to the beautiful sound of the violin. He had asked around who was a violinist or if they knew of one. No one seemed to know. Bokuto was bummed. He wanted to tell the violinist they played beautifully.
Bokuto watched the Tokyo skyline. People usually thought he was hyperactive – and he was – but it wasn't that he didn't know how to be calm. When by himself, he was mostly calm he was only excited when it was volleyball related things or things he absolutely loved. Like owls and cute baby animals. He was also dubbed as a simpleton, but he was an analytical thinker and did extraordinary essays in high school and college. He was just lazy and didn't like to study.
Bokuto wanted to do one thing. And it was to stop thinking about Akaashi Keiji.
Bokuto never admitted it, but everyone around him knew their break up wasn't the best. Akaahi's parents were very reserved and were never fond of their friendship. Even less about their relationship. The opposite about Bokuto's family. The couple was constantly arguing because Akaashi's parents were controlling him. Akaashi was in denial about it but everyone knew better. They were threatening him to kick him out of their home if they didn't break up. They hadn't raised a gay son. He wasn't even gay. He was bisexual.
One day, Akaashi had gone up to Bokuto telling him he had quit volleyball to pursue what his father wished him to: the piano.
Bokuto was angry. Angrier than he had ever been. He was almost yelling at Akaashi because how could he quit something he loved to do for something he didn't. Akaashi's deadpan face turned angry – something Bokuto would never forget – and had told Bokuto he didn't know what he was going through at home and that they were over. Bokuto had sat in his room for hours, processing what Akaashi had told him. He cried for a week. From then onward, Bokuto picked himself up from his slump and decided to prove to everyone that he did not need Akaashi. Deep down he did. He needed his support system and someone to practice with him for another hour.
Now, Bokuto missed him. Greatly. He knew Akaashi was doing wonders. He kept up with the news since Kuroo had sent him a link Kenma had sent him and saw that Akaashi had his first solo concert a year before and had been composing his own music. Bokuto was proud. Very much so. He hoped Akaashi was happy wherever he was.
The sound of piano filled Bokuto's ears once again, shoulders slumping and eyes watery once again. He noticed something was different today. Bokuto didn't know much about music, but he knew what hesitation sounded like. The music sounded like that, as if the person wasn't sure of what they were playing. There was a pause and he frowned. He waited a few and the same hesitation filled the air. If there was one thing he liked about that specific building was that it was quiet and everyone was nice to one another. It was comfortable.
After an hour of listening, Bokuto went inside with a clear mind but a heavy heart.
Bokuto was grocery shopping. One of his least favorite things. He enjoyed the eating part but never the buying. It was rather mechanical for him. Make a list. Go to the market. Put things in the basket/cart. Check out. Go home. Put away.
He was going to reach for a box of cereal when he heard something fall in the next isle over. He rushed towards the noise and saw someone – a guy with dark, messy hair – groaning and a little girl on top of him. The girl's mother rushed towards them, apologizing.
Bokuto walked over and quietly placed the scattered groceries on the basket.
"Bokuto-san?"
Bokuto froze, hand in mid-air as he was about to reach for a stray bottle of soy sauce. He hadn't been called that in a very long time. It was either Bokuto, Bokuto-sama or Kou-chan by Oikawa. He looked and felt a shiver go down his spine. He couldn't believe his eyes.
Akaashi was as gorgeous as ever. His usual blank stare was replaced by shock and his blue eyes were wide. He had lost a little bit of muscle but was still visibly git (from what Bokuto could see.) His hair was still the same: messy and silky. Bokuto knew from the time he ran his hands through the former setter's hair.
"Akaashi." He murmured, eyes wide in shock. He felt his cheeks heat up as he looked at Akaashi for a second longer than necessary. Quickly, he passed Akaashi the thing he dropped and nearly sped towards checkout.
That night, he didn't hear a violin.
A week late, Bokuto was sitting in front of his laptop, 'Akaashi Keiji' typed in his search bar. He was debating whether to press search or not. Kuroo was standing behind him telling him to press it. It didn't help that Oikawa was on speaker egging him on. He needed new friends.
With an anooyed sound, Kuroo pressed 'enter.' Bokuto yelped as articles and images of Akaashi appeared on the screen.
"What happened, Tetsu-chan?" Oikawa asked, always ready for gossip.
"I pressed enter." Kuroo snickered and watched as Bokuto stared at his screen in what could only be described as awe. The look he always had when talking about Akaashi. Kuroo hadn't seen that look in a very long time. Kuroo sighed. "He's still in love with him." He murmured to himself and Oikawa as Bokuto went through article after article.
"It's his long-lost love, Tetsu-chan." Oikawa sighed. "Of course he's going to be in love with him still."
"Are you talking about experience?"
Oikawa didn't answer.
Bokuto didn't consider himself a stalker, but he was creeping through Akaashi's Instagram. He nearly had a heart attack when he nearly liked a picture that was two years old. He decided that creeping time was over was on Instagram and went to Twitter. He was very careful and since Akaashi had over five hundred thousand followers, he decided to follow the violinist. It wasn't going to harm anyone.
Eventually, Bokuto ran out of social media where he could 'research' Akaashi. The violinist wasn't much on tweeting, but he was all about posting pictures on Instagram about random things and selfies with fellow musicians or pictures his music sheet. Bokuto resisted the urge to like the recent pictures he posted. He wanted to, but Oikawa told him it was best not to. Kuroo was backing him up.
Bokuto couldn't argue with them. They were right.
He was cooking one night when there was a knock on his door. He lowered the heat of the meat and went to get the door, cleaning his hands on the wash rag. When he opened the door, his parents were standing there with a solemn look on their faces.
"Mom! Dad!" He nearly crushed the two of them in a fierce hug. "What are you doing here?" He ushered them in and closed the door as the took their shoes off. "What happened?"
His mother looked at his father before sighing and cupping his cheeks. "It's Nana, Koutarou."
Bokuto looked between them, eyes wide in fear. "What happened? Is she okay?"
"She's really sick, Kou-chan." His mother whispered, tears pooling her eyes. "She's in her last days."
Bokuto packed a bag after he put away the food, his appetite completely gone. He called his coach and told him personal matters came up and couldn't show up to practice. Bokuto loved his grandmother. She was the first person he told he was with Akaashi. She was so elated to hear it and had given him the warmest hug Bokuto had ever received from anyone. Akaashi had her blessing the second he stepped foot into her house, saying he was handsome and 'very polite, Koutarou.'
On the way to the hospital, Bokuto informed his parents he would be talking with the receptionist to move her to a private room. He wanted to be with her uninterrupted by a random fan. It happened once when he was in the hospital with his mom. A fan had the bed next to her and it was slightly awkward as he was star-struck and didn't know when to stop staring or ask questions. Bokuto managed the situation with a smile but he was slightly upset.
He called ahead and when they arrived, his grandmother was moved to a different room. When Bokuto walked in he dropped his bag and rushed to her side, hugging her tightly but not hurting her. He was already crying.
"Don't cry, Koutarou." She murmured. "I'm going to be okay."
Bokuto cried harder. "I can't lose you, Nana."
Nana ran a hand through his hair and patted his cheek. "You'll be fine, Koutarou. I have one wish."
"Anything." He sniffled, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. He meant it when he said it.
"Make things right with Keiji-kun. Doesn't matter where he is. I know you still love that boy."
Bokuto clutched the blanket that was covering his Nana, sobs racking his body. She was the only one who knew Bokuto. The only one who understood him. He was surprised she was as supporting as she was. She was mostly old fashioned, but she wanted happiness for her family. Nothing more and nothing less.
"I can't promise that. I don't know where he is. We haven't talked in years, Nana."
She sighed exasperatedly. "I am not asking, Koutarou. I am telling you. It doesn't matter how it ends. I just want you to see him one last time. Open my bag. Front pocket." Bokuto obliged and took out a small black box. "It's something I want you to give Keiji-kun, no matter how things end. Do you understand?"
Bokuto nodded, clutching the box. He sat next to his grandmother and told her how work was going. A few of his family members joined him later after, until all her grandchildren visited her for a while.
That same night, Bokuto's world crumbled when she flatlined.
A week later, Bokuto was kneeling in front of his Nana's altar, tears running down his cheeks. He kneeled in front of it every day. He knew he was never going to be fully okay, but during time he would be. He clutched the box she had given him tightly and whispered: "I promise I'll give it to him, Nana."
Bokuto was in his apartment, curled up on the couch talking with Oikawa and Kuroo who had stopped by for a visit to share their condolences. They knew Bokuto's grandmother and they loved her like their own. He was sweet to them, cooking and baking whenever they came over. She treated them like her own grandchildren. Bokuto's friends loved her to pieces.
Oikawa was snuggling against Bokuto while Kuroo was making them tea. A knock on the door startled the three of them. Bokuto made to get up; Oikawa stopped him and got up himself to get the door.
"Kou-chan, someone's looking for you." Oikawa called as he walked into the living room.
Bokuto frowned. He was comfortable in his cocoon, nevertheless he needed to be an adult and at least answer the person in the hallway. He wasn't a child anymore. With a heavy sigh and a ruffle to his already messy hair he made his way to the door, taking a quick sip of tea Kuroo offered. It burned his tongue; he needed it before facing anyone that weren't his friends.
Oikawa had closed the door a little, shielding whoever was on the other side. When he opened the door fully, he would have dropped his mug if it wasn't taken away by Iwaizumi. Standing in front of him was none other than Akaashi Keiji. Bokuto's wide eyes were wider as he took in the man in front of him.
Same dark curly hair, same light skin tone, same hooded blue eyes. The only difference was the height. Slightly taller, but still shorter than Bokuto by a few centimeters. Akaashi had not changed at all.
"Hello, Bokuto-san."
Bokuto-san. It stung more than Bokuto would have thought. After calling him Koutarou for a year, hearing Akaashi say Bokuto-san hurt.
"Akaashi." He breathed out. Calling him Keiji would be impolite and he didn't know if the other was comfortable with it. Bokuto felt his eyes start to water.
Without hesitation, Akaashi hugged him close. Sobs were shaking Bokuto's wide frame as Akaashi squeezed him tightly. Too many emotions were running through Bokuto like the Fuji river. He didn't know what to feel, and the amount of feelings he had stored were all coming out at once.
He missed his Nana. He missed Akaashi. He felt like a failure because he couldn't keep the man he loved. He felt happy because Akaashi was there. Grateful he had amazing friends who didn't leave him when he needed someone the most. He loved them a lot.
After he calmed down, Bokuto wiped the snot away from his nose. It was unattractive, yet he didn't care. Akaashi's eyes were rimmed red as well. He was very close to Bokuto's grandmother.
"Would you like to come in?" Bokuto offered sheepishly. "Kuroo is here too. He made tea."
Akaashi smiled a little. "I would love to."
Bokuto lead him inside and waited for Akaashi to take off his shoes and slip on the slippers. They walked towards the kitchen where Oikawa and Kuroo were drinking tea while having an intense staring contest. Bokuto cleared his throat. Kuroo and Oikawa both blinked, groaning loudly.
"Kou-chan! I was. . . Oh, Akaashi!" Oikawa grinned, throwing a subtle glance Kuroo's way. "How are you?"
"Hello, Oikawa-san, Kuroo-san." Akaashi bowed a little, and scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. His eyes were adverted.
"Akaashi!" Kuroo exclaimed. "How's my favorite setter?" He threw an arm around the former setter, grinning.
"Tetsu-chan! How rude!" Oikawa gasped. "I thought I was your favorite setter!"
"Lies." Bokuto snorted. "We all know it's Kenma."
"Touché." Kuroo grinned wider and patted Akaashi's shoulder before offering him a mug of tea.
Akaashi declined politely. He loved tea, but Kuroo's were never his favorites. Kuroo wasn't offended anymore, he only shrugged and casually told Oikawa they needed to talk strategy for the next game.
Bokuto rolled his eyes. They were so obvious it hurt him sometimes. He had fools for friends. When they left, he turned towards Akaashi, arms crossed, and gaze averted. He felt small, in a way. Akaashi was looking at him with a calculative look. The violinist always looked at him like that.
"I'm very sorry about your grandmother." Akaashi murmured, eyes on the floor. "She was the best woman I've ever met." He had a sad, yet honest smile on his face. Bokuto knew he wasn't lying. Akaashi was always honest with his friends, even more so when they had gotten together. "Well, I just wanted to stop by and see how you were doing."
Bokuto stood up a little straighter and said, "Nana left something for you. Wait here." He went to his room – which was a little messy – and took the small black box in his hands before heading towards the kitchen.
Akaashi was twiddling his long, nimble fingers; a nervous habit of his. Bokuto handed him the box and the violinist took it gingerly in his hands. When he opened the box, Akaashi smiled, eyes watery. Bokuto peeked and inside was his Nana's golden brooch. It was a red flower, encrusted with rubies and diamonds.
"I always told her I loved this." He stroked it with a single finger, eyes bright. "Thank you, Bokuto-san. It means a lot to me."
"You're welcome, Akaashi." Bokuto rubbed the back of his neck nervously. He wanted to ask Akaashi if he was with someone, but the words got stuck in his throat. He couldn't get himself to ask. He wasn't ready to feel his chest constrict when Akaashi turned down his offer of going out or answering positive to his question. He hadn't liked the way his eyes had watered when Akaashi broke up with him all those years ago. He didn't want to feel heartbroken again.
Akaashi's phone rang, making the two of them jump. The violinist excused himself, and when Bokuto gave a nod, he answered. Bokuto blocked out the conversation, not wanting to pry.
"Bokuto-san?"
"Yes?"
"I have to go. My wife is waiting for me."
Bokuto felt his heart fall to his stomach and rise to his throat again. He plastered on a fake smile and walked Akaashi to the door.
"Thank you for coming." Bokuto leaned against the doorframe, not able to hold himself up anymore. He was trying his hardest to hide his feeling of brokenness to Akaashi.
"Thank you for this." The curly haired man motioned to the box in his hand. Hesitantly, he reached up and hugged Bokuto tightly. He whispered, "I'm sorry."
Bokuto didn't know if he was sorry for his grandmother passing away or for breaking his heart again.
Akaashi let go and waved at Bokuto. Bokuto watched as Akaashi walked down the hallway and turn towards a door on the same floor. Silently, he watched as Akaashi took out a set of keys and unlocked the door, walking in.
Bokuto's eyes watered. He had him so close yet so far away.
Walking in, Bokuto rubbed his eyes roughly. He was upset, frustrated, angry at himself. Most of all, he was sad. Reaching the living room, he sat down between his two friends who engulfed him in a cuddle pile where he cried his eyes out. He would never have his Nana back nor the man he loved the most.