It was a fantastic game. The match of a lifetime.

And Akaashi's heart ached when it ended.

So many people he knew had played on the sparkling court in Kamei Arena that day.

"Hey, I'm heading out," Tenma said to the manga editor, when the stands were 75% clear.

"Oh, yeah," Keiji said. "Thanks for coming." He did not wish to leave his front row seat yet, not ready to say goodbye to the memories of high school.

He felt so alive on that court with Bokuto. Keiji remembered setting that final ball for Bokuto, a cross that his ace nailed into the floor after an exhausting rally at the end of dozens of exhausting rallies. The final whistle. The euphoric feeling that they'd won….

As the Black Jackals filed into the locker rooms, Koutarou chatted cheerfully with Shouyou. His eyes drifted to the stands.

There, newly in glasses, with longer and messier hair, but still the spitting image of what Koutarou remembered, was Keiji.

Bokuto startled Hinata when he rammed his way through his teammates to get ahead of the pack and split down the hall. Captain Meian wanted to censure him but resigned himself; yelling wouldn't make a difference.

Kou sped through the underground tunnels, then up the stairs to the public area. He tried to reorient himself in the halls. Still in uniform, the gaggle of exiting patrons gawped and whispered at the sight of the pro sprinting towards where he thought the sitting area was.

In the stands, Akaashi exhaled and forced himself up.

It was time to say goodbye to the past and return to the tedious present.

So obsessed with guessing the location where he'd seen Akaashi, Bokuto didn't think to read the arena signage for directions. Everything seemed backward. He didn't know where the correct seating section was.

Akaashi mounted the stairs, one of the last people to vacate the tired bleachers.

Koutarou kept running.

Keiji kept climbing.

At the top of the steps, in front of the portal to the concourse, Akaashi took one last glimpse at the court.

Behind him, hopelessly lost, Bokuto sprinted right past the portal, unseen by Keiji.

Akaashi expelled the reminiscences with a long breath and entered the concourse, heading towards the exit, vaguely noticing intrigued chatter behind him.

A few sections down, thinking he'd found the spot, Bokuto peeked into the arena. He realized he had run a few sections too far.

Peering over at Akaashi's section, alas, Keiji had already made his way out.

He pouted sadly.

Bokuto scrubbed his sweaty face with his damp shirt, not noticing an apparent fan approach.

"May I have your autograph?" said an adult male's voice.

"Oh, sure," Koutarou said, summoning the energy to be at least halfway sociable.

He took the pad and pen from…

Keiji, softly smiling.

Before Akaashi knew what was happening, Bokuto almost strangled him with a bear hug.

"Akaashi!" Koutarou shrieked when they separated. "Did you see it?! Did you see Shouyou's set?! And Tsum-Tsum's dink?! And Wan-san's dig?! And Omi's spike?!"

Keiji gazed at the excitable man speaking, the words largely passing through him. "I did. I also saw you."

Koutarou almost didn't know how to react.

"It's what I expect of 's top ace," Akaashi finished. Bokuto reticently rubbed the back of his head. Akaashi didn't know when Koutarou became so shy.

Keiji ducked his eyes. "You found an awesome setter too…."

That sentence startled Bokuto.

The moment he saw Akaashi, his mind overflowed with memories. His first year of college he struggled at first to become accustomed to the new setter. Even when he became comfortable, it wasn't the same.

Now in the pros, Miya was exceptionally good. In fact, Miya was the best setter Kou had ever worked with.

Yes, admittedly, even a better setter than Akaashi.

But it still wasn't the same. He and Tsum-Tsum were professional cohorts, stars perhaps….

"I still miss hitting your sets though…."

…But with Akaashi, Bokuto had felt like the center of the story.

He wondered if Akaashi ever felt the same way.

When Koutarou peered into his old partner's eyes, which suddenly appeared on the verge of crying, Bokuto understood, yes, Akaashi did feel the same way too.

Keiji extended the pen and paper once more. "May I have your autograph for real?"

Keiji treasured it more than anything.

A gift for someone at Archive of our Own. I hope you enjoyed. Please leave a review.

~Breeze