Chapter 20: Day 3

[CW: bipolar disorder, self-harm/cutting, depression]

Bokuto woke at around seven o'clock Tuesday morning. He laid in bed for a while listening to see if Akaashi was still here, but he heard no sounds coming from outside his bedroom door, so he couldn't be sure. Akaashi could still be sleeping.

Akaashi. Why was he still here? Why didn't he leave? Bokuto had told him to go countless times, but he wouldn't. Why?

Bokuto thought back to yesterday. He had slept through much of the day, but the rest he spent scrolling mindlessly through social media, watching movies, videos or anime in his bed. A few times he got up to get a snack or something to drink from the kitchen. Akaashi was still there, either sitting in the living room or kitchen. Each time he saw him there, Bokuto got upset all over again and told him to go. Each time, Akaashi said the same thing, that he wasn't leaving and Bo was going to have to try to physically remove him if he wanted him to leave.

When Bokuto realized yet again that he wasn't going to change Akaashi's mind, he went back to his dark bedroom, shades closed, and sat or laid in the darkness, doing nothing of note. Till the next time. Lather, rinse, repeat.

Would today be the same? He had to make Akaashi realize this was stupid, that being with him is not something anyone would want. Why won't he listen? He's got to know this is not a problem that's going to go away. I will keep hurting him over and over and over again.

The thought made Bo's heart ache. He could not stand the thought of being the one who would make Akaashi suffer. He had to make him see, somehow. But how? So far he was being incredibly stubborn, more stubborn than Bo even thought possible. His thoughts kept circling back to this - how to make him understand - until he fell back asleep.

Bokuto was standing on a steep cliff that overlooked the ocean. It was raining and the clouds let no sunlight through making the day seem more like night. He was going to jump, to end all the pain, and somehow the decision gave him peace. He knew this was what had to be done. When he was gone, he wouldn't be able to hurt anyone anymore. He knew in his heart this was the right choice. This was the only decision that would keep them from feeling the same pain over and over. They would be better off if he was gone. Safer. Happier. Peaceful.

He looked out over the ocean and got ready to jump, when he felt a hand grab at his shirt. Surprised, he turned to see Akaashi, soaking wet, hair matted down, his blue eyes bright with rage and… fear? He was saying something that Bo could not make out, but he wouldn't let go. Bokuto was trying to loosen Akaashi's grip on his shirt, trying to get away, but Akaashi would not let go. They stumbled a bit and then... fell over the side. He was falling. THEY were falling.

Bokuto woke with a startled gasp and sat up straight in his bed. His heart was thudding in his chest and his breath was ragged. It took him several seconds to recognize his surroundings and realize that those awful images were only a dream. He sat there for a few minutes, trying to calm himself, before laying back on the bed.

The dream was a warning, he thought to himself. If I can't make him leave, I'm just going to take him down with me. He doesn't deserve that. But what if I can't convince him?

The thought of dragging Akaashi into this roller coaster world, of burdening him with this illness, made him catch his breath again. I need to end this bullshit. I need to make him understand. His heart hurt. His chest ached. He felt overwhelming sadness that he could cause someone he loved so much such deep pain.

The more he imagined Akaashi suffering, the more agitated Bokuto became. He worked himself up into a frenzy envisioning all sorts of horrible scenarios of what Akaashi would have to endure if he stayed. Awful, horrific situations that he would go through, scenes with doctors and police and funeral directors. They were each worse than the last.

Bokuto finally could take it no more. He felt an overwhelming urge to cut. He got up, physically shaking and feeling like he wanted to vomit, and stumbled to the bathroom. He opened his medicine cabinet to grab his razor. It wasn't there. He stared at the empty space for several seconds trying to comprehend what he was seeing. It took him a moment to realize Akaashi was to blame for this as well.

Okay, well, if I can't use a razor, I can use something else, he thought, leaving the bathroom to make his way to the kitchen. He passed by a sleeping Akaashi, only able to see his back. Even better that he's facing away so he won't see me, thought Bokuto. He arrived at the kitchen and opened the drawer with the kitchen knives but was surprised to find that they weren't there. He saw all of his other silverware, spoons and forks, but no knives. Fuck. He took those too! he thought, with a lot of frustration and a little anger. What am I going to do?

He slumped over the kitchen counter onto his elbows and held his head in his hands. The urge to cut was so strong that not being able to do it felt like being deprived of oxygen. He needed to feel that pain. To release it. Now. What could he do?

He slowly stood and turned, not knowing exactly what he was going to do. He saw Akaashi sleeping peacefully on the sofa and another pang of guilt stabbed him in the heart. He is an angel, and I am a worthless piece of shit, he thought, guilt and pain rising in his throat like bile. He could take no more of watching his perfect boyfriend and slowly trudged back to his bedroom.

The need to self-harm was overwhelming. He wanted, no NEEDED, to feel that physical pain. It was as if his emotional pain flowed out of the wounds instead of blood. Each cut released a little more, and then finally, when enough of the hurt and anger escaped, he would feel stable again. It helped him. He needed to feel that, to have that relief from the pain in his mind and his heart.

So he used the only thing currently at his disposal - his fingernails. He sat down on his bed and scraped the skin on his thighs as hard and as deep as he could. He was disappointed that it didn't hurt more; his nails were too short to do much damage beyond a little redness on his skin and some faint scratches. He tried again though, as the minimal pain provided a tiny bit of relief. He was still trying his best to gouge his leg when Akaashi appeared in the doorway.

"Bokuto-san, what are you doing?" Akaashi sounded sleepy, but alarmed. Bo looked up, embarrassed to be caught. He answered, "Nothing" as he stood and flopped down on the bed, face down.

Akaashi didn't speak for a few seconds. "It didn't look like nothing," he observed.

"Go the fuck away, Akaashi. I don't want you here. I want you to go. I don't want to see you anymore. Please. Please just go and don't come back." His head was turned away from the door as he said this so he could not gauge Akaashi's reaction. There was silence for a moment, and then he saw a shadow fall over the floor by the bed. Akaashi was looking at him, still standing.

"I told you I'm not leaving. Do you want to talk about what just happened?"

"No," replied Bokuto, flipping his head to the other side, away from that knowing gaze.

"Are you sure? Maybe it would help."

"Fuck, Akaashi," Bokuto said, suddenly sitting up to face him. "You just don't get it, do you? Do you see me? Are you looking at me? I don't know how to make you understand. I'm not ever going to be cured. This is it. This is what you get. I am a fucking broken mess."

Akaashi stared at Bokuto during his tirade. The only emotion Bo could see was anger in his eyes. Good, thought Bokuto, maybe I'm finally getting through to him. But Akaashi's next words shattered that assumption.

"You are not broken. You're sick. This is an illness, not a personal failing."

Bokuto had no response. Akaashi continued to look at him, his face set with determination.

"I wouldn't leave you if you had diabetes, I'm not leaving you because of this. Period. End of story. You're stuck with me, so get the fuck over it."

He then turned and walked out of the room, leaving Bokuto dumbstruck.