Chapter 13: Anguish
After a while, he didn't know how long, Akaashi's sobs finally waned. He was still lying on the floor, on his side, one cheek pressed to the rough carpet above a wet patch revealing the spot where his pool of his tears had fallen. He opened his puffy red eyes halfway but did not lift his head. He was able to think a little bit now, and was starting to process, at least minimally. He was upset. He is not acting himself. I've got to talk to him. I've got to fix this.
He remained motionless on the floor for several additional minutes. Was Bokuto still even in Tokyo? Or was he already on a train back home? Should I call? Should I text? Just one thing Akaashi knew for sure. He HAD to talk to him. He felt the urgency now, rising in his chest, making him gasp for air. THINK! THINK!
In the tiny, hazy portion of his brain that was still firing neurons, the idea that he could track Bokuto's phone with his own occurred to him. He turned slightly, reaching into his pocket, and pulled out his phone with trembling hands. He managed to open the app to find friends, and searched for Bokuto's location. Akaashi breathed out, a bit unsteady, when he realized Bokuto was still in Tokyo, at the train station. He wasn't too late then. He took another deep breath and debated briefly what to say, before typing out a simple message with shaky fingers.
A: Bokuto-san, I'm sorry. Please don't leave. We need to talk.
He pressed send and stared with furrowed brow at the screen, hoping that his boyfriend (oh, God, was it ex-boyfriend now?) would respond and at the same time dreading the response. He saw a moment later that the message was marked as "Read." In another moment, three dots appeared on the screen, indicating that Bokuto was typing, and Akaashi held his breath till it was painful. This was either going to be good. Or very bad.
It didn't take long to get his answer. And it was bad. Texts began flooding his phone, one by one, short, brief, brutal messages with obscenities and accusations, one after the other, seemingly never to end. The messages flashed before his unbelieving eyes almost like it was happening to someone else. He struggled again to find any rhyme or reason in this ridiculous situation and failed, as his heart broke again, over and over with each cruel, biting message. He actually gasped with a strangled cry when he saw seven savage, vicious words flash across his screen:
B: i never want to see you again
He threw the phone across the room and sobbed again, this time his moans sounding like a tormented soul in the ninth circle of hell. He cried and bawled and howled till he had no more sound, no more tears, no more energy. Then he simply laid on the floor, completely not caring what happened next.